


YGOvengers

by DaimeryanRei, Dillian



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Crossover, Dark Tony Stark, F/M, M/M, Possessed Tony Stark, Post-Avengers (2012), Powers of the Sennen Ring, Pre-Avengers AoU, Shadow Realm, Shadow magic, Tony Stark Comes Close to Destroying the World, Yu-Gi-Oh - Post Doma Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaimeryanRei/pseuds/DaimeryanRei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: IMPORTANT NOTICE: due to a very personal situation in my (DaimeryanRei) life, updates will be slow and sporadic. We are still working on this story with every intention to finish it. I thank you for your patience.Title says it all:  This was an idea that my co-writer and I had, while we were doing an IronFrost RP, that we may or may not edit into a couple of stories later on down the line.  She included the Sennen Ring, just as a one-off, because YGO is, and will always be, her fav fandom ever.  I noticed, because I used to be something of a YGO fan myself (full disclosure:  We met in a YGO RPG on Livejournal, in 2005), and I commented that we ought to write a crossover, Avengers/YGO story.  And so we did.Summary:  The Sennen Ring has been stolen by black-marketers.  SHIELD apprehends them, and takes the Ring.  They bring it to Avengers' Tower, just temporarily, but while it's there, the Dark Bakura makes contact with Tony, responding to the darkness he senses within him.  When the Yuugi-tachi realize it's gone, and come to retrieve it, it's too late.  Tony has been drawn to the darkness, and cannot pull away by himself.  It's up to Yuugi and his friends to save him, and stop the crisis that is brewing.





	1. Chapter 1

**_The Avengers_ ** **, and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics.** **_Yugioh_ ** **belongs strictly and solely to Takahashi Kazuki, and we have no ownership of it either.  This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit.**

“Long ago, in ancient times,  
A sacred game was played, of both spirit and mind.  
Seven items hold the mystery,  
Puzzle, Eye, Necklace, Ring, Rod, Scale, and Key.  
Who will make the final stand?  
Make the move,  
The answer lies in your hand.  
And whether you win or lose  
Hangs in the balance, with  
The card you choose.  
( _Trust_ ) trust in the heart,  
Don't let down your guard.  
The heart of the cards,  
No battle's too hard.  
Remember to trust in the heart of the cards. ”  
\-- Yu-Gi-Oh: Music to Duel By, “Heart of the Cards”

 **SCENE:  DOMINO CITY, JAPAN**  
Afterward, neither of them could explain what it was that had happened.  They were at the Kame Game Shop.  Why were they there?  Same-old/same-old.

“The God Cards…”  Was it Haga, or Ryuzaki that said it first?  How to remember?  It could have been either of them, lord knows, they both have their reasons.  What had happened to their former glory as Duel Monsters champions?  Nothing but a lot of over-powered Monsters, that made their own decks worthless, but if that’s the way the game goes, shouldn’t they at least have some over-powered Monsters of their own?  And, the best of all the Monsters you could get?  

“If only I had those God Cards…”  This was Haga talking, muttering under his breath in that super-dramatic way of his.

It was raining that night, the streets of Domino City wet and shiny, under the streetlamp on the corner.  Haga was there with his raincoat on, collar turned up against the rain.   Ryuzaki didn’t even see him, until he heard the mutter, and he didn’t respond to that immediately.

“You look stupid,” he said instead, and he pointed at the raincoat.  “All that protection, when what you really need is a pair of windshield wipers.”

Haga, his glasses indeed, very wet, and fogged from the rain, glared at the former National Champion.  “Says the guy wearing the soggy watch-cap?”  He snorted one of those nasty little laughs that was always his way.  “I thought you were doing pretty well for yourself, winning a few local contests now and then.  Don’t they pay enough for you to get a raincoat?”

“Maybe I don’t want a raincoat?”  Dinosaur Ryuzaki so obviously did want one, that the defiance rang hollow, and both the two duelists sank into silence.  Soon both were doing what they had been doing, circling the Game Shop, again and again, their eyes always straying toward the window on the top floor that was Moutou Yuugi’s room.  Mutters of, “If I had…  If we had…  It would be so easy to win any tournament with a God Card...”

Both looked at each other.  “You’re here for the...”  Ryuzaki, looking down.

And, “You too?”  This from Haga, and, with his characteristic arrogance, “Would you even have any idea what to do with them?”

“I’d know.”  The Dinosaur Master glared.  “Would you?  ...Bug-Boy?”

Haga, serious now:  “I’d command Osiris to tear everything apart with its mighty fangs!”

“And I’d use Ra to burn them all.”  Ryuzaki’s voice was serious now too.  Looking up again at Yuugi’s window, “How did _he_ get them?” he said.  “What’s so special about _him_?”

Haga stood next to him now, both of them staring up, like cats underneath a birdcage.  Something was up there, that they both wanted… both felt that they deserved.  And why not?  They were only cards, just little pieces of cardboard, and why should they belong to one duelist instead of another?

Suddenly Ryuzaki’s face lighted.  He’d remembered something.  “You should do something, Haga.  Remember the Exodia cards you threw overboard?”

Haga remembered.  He also remembered achieving nothing by doing it, when Yuugi ended up winning Duelist Kingdom and Battle City by a landslide, defeating no one else but Kaiba Seto, and owning not one, but three divine beasts.  “You do it,” he snarled back.  “I’ve had my fill of fighting Mutou Yuugi.”

“Haga...”  Ryuzaki’s whisper cut through the darkness.

“What?”  Half-blinded by the rain on his glasses, the Insect Master turned toward the voice.

“Why don’t we both just do it?  Right now?  When we’re right by the house, let’s just do it.”

Two pairs of eyes, looking up at the top floor of the Kame Game Shop.  Which one of them was it, that picked up the rock?  Who threw it?  Afterwards, neither of them could remember, all they remembered was the sharp crash of breaking glass, and the shards that fell all around their feet.  And they remembered struggling up the tree that grew next to the window, and climbing in, first Haga, and then Ryuzaki.  Yuugi kept his deck in his backpack, everyone knew that, everyone had seen him open that thing up, and take out the box with his deck.  Were there other things in the bag too?  Maybe?  Who ever took the time to notice?

Once inside the room, Haga was the first to see the pack, slung onto the back of a chair by Yuugi’s bed.  “There…”  He jabbed at it with his thumb.  “Get it, Ryuzaki.”

“Me get it?”  It wasn’t guilt the Dinosaur Master was feeling, it was worry, as vague memories started to pop into his mind, of the horrible things that sometimes happened to people who opposed Mutou Yuugi.  “You get it, Haga.”

The Insect Duelist snorted.  “Fine then, I will.”  A minute later, Haga had it in his hand, and he was headed for the window.  “I did the work, I get the Cards.”  He was halfway down the tree, before Ryuzaki could even follow him out the window.

Much harder going down the tree, than it had been coming up, the bark so slippery from the evening rain. Ryuzaki heard his pants rip, but he didn’t even care, his mind so full of the thoughts of Haga… -- Of all people!   _Haga_! -- ...Thoughts of him getting the cards, maybe even having taken them already, before the Dinosaur Duelist could even catch up and see the Beasts for himself.  Was he going to let that happen?  Never!   He hit ground and took off, running faster than he even knew he could, sprinting after the Insect Master, determined to not let him get away with the Cards alone.  Were there sounds coming from the Game Shop, behind him?  Maybe.  Or maybe not too, Ryuzaki wasn’t paying any attention.

Ahead of him, down an alley, he could make out the shadowy form of Haga, already crouched down in front of a golden box, with the backpack nowhere in sight.  Ryuzaki pelted after him, catching up just as he opened the box.  “Let me see…”  His breath came uneven, after all the running.  “Dammit, Haga, I did all the work to get the damn Cards, now will you let me see?”

Haga didn’t even look at him. “ _You_?”  A contemptuous snort.  “You didn’t do any of the work, I did all of it,” he repeated.  “The Cards are mine.”

Ryuzaki reached out to shove him.  Then he stopped.  His arms dropped to his sides, as he saw Haga lift the box’s lid.  Suddenly, as the golden glow…  Of Ra!  It had to be Ra!  ...Haga lifted the lid, and Ryuzaki saw that glow; suddenly it felt like his legs were rooted to the ground, and he couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to.

“Ra’s mine.”  He snatched for it, confident on his ability to out-fight the scrawny Insector.  I’ll take that, you can have one of the others.”

“ _One_?”  Haga was making weak swats at him, with his puny little hands, but he seemed to have accepted that he wasn’t going to win, because he’d stopped claiming all three cards for himself.  “You can have one, you can have…  Take Obelisk, I don’t care about Obelisk.  The other two are mine.”

“Just Obelisk?  And you get two?  No...”  Ryuzaki glared at the shorter duelist.  An idea came into his head:  “We play for the Beasts,” he said.  “You and me, with our current decks.”

A responding glare from Haga.  “When I did all the work?  You’re nuts.”

“We play.”  Ryuzaki moved in close, looking down at the Insector.  The two considered themselves friends, of sorts, but this was important.  These were the God Cards.  Unaware, Ryuzaki’s hands curled into fists.  One way or the other, he was leaving here with at least two Beasts.

And then from behind them, a voice:  “Haga-kun, Ryuzaki-kun...”  A soft voice, modest-sounding.  Yuugi’s voice.  “Please, friends, please give me back my God Cards.”

The two older boys, against little Mutou Yuugi?  Almost too easy.  Ryuzaki looked at Haga, and he looked back at him, and then both of them smiled.  “You’re not getting the cards, Yuugi.”  Haga’s voice, his tone very condescending.  “You’ve been on top long enough.  Time to give somebody else a turn.”

And Ryuzaki, watching the little kid, at the entrance to the alley:  Little Yuugi had come out without any shoes on, no jacket, or anything.  He was going to be sick tomorrow, coming out here in the cold, in just those star-patterned pajamas.  What a baby!  “You want the cards?”  His voice was confident.  “Come here and fight us for them.”

That should have been enough to send a puny kid like Yuugi packing, but here he was, still standing his ground.  With just the beginning of a smile on his face, even.  Nothing here for him to be smiling about, but if he wanted to make it as easy as that?

Ryuzaki’s own grin widened.  “Fight us,” he said.  “Or you could duel is, I guess.  But nobody uses the God Cards, not until we have a winner.”

“A game?”  Was Yuugi’s voice different?  It seemed like there was something, like a little bit of a faint change in the tone, but maybe that was the Dinosaur Duelist’s imagination.  Weird dark night like this, imaginations run wild, right?  And Yuugi’s soft murmur... -- His usual voice, surely it was. -- “I would agree to that, I like games.”

Meanwhile, Haga’s just staring.  What is Ryuzaki doing? He should have just run straight home as soon as he had the God Cards in his hands. What does Ryuzaki think, getting into a game with the frikken _King of Games_ for god’s sake?  Is he a complete idiot?  “We should get out of here.”  He nudges the Dinosaur Duelist in the ribs, hard.  “Come on, let’s go, before he calls the cops on us!”

No answer from Ryuzaki.  Instead, he just stared at Yuugi, who was moving closer to them, but slowly, very slowly.  A weird sound… like a chain rattling.  Ryuzaki looked around for a moment, noticed the chain around Yuugi’s neck, and that weird, tacky upside-down golden pyramid-thing.  He always wore that thing, didn’t he?  But does it always rattle like that?  Cute little Yuugi, his eyes narrower than usual… -- From anger!  How much anger did this little simp have in him?  ...He came toward the other two duelists in the alley, but still slowly, and very carefully.

“A game...”  His voice was lower than usual too, and not soft at all, more like almost… menacing?  Little Yuugi, being menacing? . He clipped his words sharp, “What do you suggest?”

Involuntarily, Ryuzaki took a step back.  Meanwhile Haga huddled into himself (he told himself he was protecting the God Cards).  For a long time, neither of them responded, then Haga managed, “We… I…  Uhh...”  Sharp sound as he cleared his throat.  Was he nervous?  But this was just Mutou Yuugi!

“Speak!”  Yuugi’s voice was suddenly very sharp.  “Speak your terms and conditions of your game, or else forfeit your soul and walk until the end of your days in the darkness of the shadows!”

The overblown threats relaxed the other two duelists.  Souls walking in darkness?  Shadows?  Little Moutou Yuugi must be crazy.  Ryuzaki nudged Haga.  “He’s nuts.”

Haga, snerking, responded, “Yeah, okay, you were right, Ryuzaki.  One duel, we beat this kid. -- Hey, maybe we can get all his rare cards from him, as well as the Divine Beasts.”

“A duel.”  This was Ryuzaki,sounding confident again.  “We play you, first me, then the Insector.  Winner gets the God Cards.”

“And your other rare cards too,” Haga chimed in.  “I know you have another set of Exodia somewhere.”

Watching Yuugi, Ryuzaki saw the weirdest look go across his face.  Almost a pleased look, but why would he be pleased?  They’re making him duel without any of his best cards, aren’t they?  Then the kid gave a nod.  “Your terms and conditions are accepted,” he said, still with that strange, not-quite-Yuugi tone in his voice.  “Prepare to be tested, unworthy ones.”

“Unworthy ones?”  Haga gave another snerk.  “Unworthy of what?

“Yeah…”  Deep-down, the Dinosaur Duelist was starting to have some doubts.  Something was hinky about this, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  “We are going to take your Cards, Yuugi,” he said, but his voice was uncertain, as though he was trying to reassure himself.

Looking back afterward, Haga and Ryuzaki were never able to agree on just what happened next.  It was a light, that’s what Haga said.  Ryuzaki was sure it was more like a smell.  First their surroundings changed…  They changed in this way, that neither duelist was ever able to pinpoint, but the worst part was the emotions.  As the changes happened, there was another change:  A feeling of something choking and unpleasant, that filled both of them.  Was it fear?  Or sadness?  Or both?

“You have made your choice.”  Yuugi’s voice was so soft, but it echoed, like it was coming from all around them.  “Now I shall have no pity.”

“Let’s get out of here.”  That was Ryuzaki, nudging his partner in the ribs.  But then a chill ran through him, as Haga responded.

“How?” he said.  “Where is there, that we can go?”

“Why, back where we came from, out of the…”  Ryuzaki paled.  He looked around.  This had been a normal alley, with an entrance and an exit.  Now what was it?  It was like it was nothing, purple clouds and weird… shadows?  It was like it was everything and nothing, and Haga was...  Horribly, he was right, there was no way to leave.

“You...”  Haga’s voice, his tone uncertain, as Ryuzaki’s had been before.  “You, Yuugi, let us out, let us go...”

“Let us go home.”  Cowardly, to beg a wimpy little kid like Moutou Yuugi, but a situation like this demanded it.  

“We’ll let you keep the Cards,” Haga said.  “We…  We don’t want them anymore.”

When another voice sounded, it was a relief to both of the duelists.  “Hey!”  This voice was gruff, official-sounding.  “What are you kids doing here?”

A cop?  What an insane situation, when a cop arriving right after you stole something, could seem like such a relief.  “What are you kids doing here?” the policeman demanded.  “It’s way past curfew, and it’s raining for crying out loud.”

As one, Haga and Ryuzaki both looked over toward Yuugi.  For a moment, there was the weirdest look on his face, like an animal, whose food had just been taken from him.  Was the look really there?  It couldn’t have been, could it?  But the boys were both sure they had seen it.

“Thank you for coming, officer.”  Yuugi’s voice had changed.  This was normal, babyish, Moutou Yuugi again.  “These boys, they took something of mine.”

“Thieves?”  The cop shone his flashlight into Ryuzaki and Haga’s faces.  “What did they steal?”

Yuugi had moved over to where the golden box with his deck sat on the ground, next to a garbage can.  He was searching through the cards.  “It’s…”  He seemed ashamed to even be asking for help, and again, Haga and Ryuzaki looked at each other.  How could this be the same boy they’d been dealing with a few minutes before.  “It’s nothing, they took some… some cards.”

The cop looked back at him. “I know you.” he said.  “I’ve seen you on TV, you won Kaiba’s tournament, didn’t you?  Battle City?  My son loves you, he calls you the King of Games.”

“I don’t deserve that title.”  This was the weak Yuugi-voice, the one that had made the other two think he would be such a pushover.  “I had help, my friends and… others.”

“Hey, whatever, you’re good, my son says so.”

“We’ll give him back the cards.”  Haga already had them out of his pocket.  “Three cards, here you go, Yuugi.”

“Is it okay now?  Can we leave?”  Ryuzaki looked, and was relieved to see that the alley had an entrance again.

“Yeah,” Haga chimed in, “let us go.”

“There’s just…”  Yuugi’s soft voice.  “I don’t mean to be any trouble, but these were in a bag,” he said.  “Where is it?”

Haga pointed.  “You should have seen it, I left it on the street.”

“On the street?”  The cop glared.  “Why would you treat another boy’s property so carelessly?  You’re no better than common thieves.”

“I forgive them, I only want my bag back.”

It was Ryuzaki who discovered the bag, but only after all of them had been searching for some time.  A gym-bag of some dark-colored fabric, soaking wet.  It was lying open around the corner, on somebody’s lawn.

“This is it, right?”  He shoved it at Yuugi, who immediately broke into one of those goofy grins of his.

“Thank you, Ryuzaki-kun!”.

The cop looked at Haga and Ryuzaki.  “You two better get on home,” he said, “before I run you in.  Penalty for breaking and entering is a year in juvie, but I’m going to be nice and give you a break.”  He snorted.  “Not that you deserve it, but I think it’s what would make the King of Games here, happy.”

Watching the other two boys get lectured made Yuugi uncomfortable.  What was wrong with Haga-kun and Ryuzaki-kun that they would have done something like this?  Not stupid, Yuugi knew the boys weren’t his friends.  Lots of people weren’t friends though, and that didn’t mean they would break into your house and try to rob you.  For a moment, the Pharaoh flashed into his mind, his power to command the Shadows, specifically:  Yuugi’s Other Self swore, after his battle with Pegasus, that he would never summon the Shadows again.  But the Shadows weren’t always bad, were they?  Wasn’t Kaiba-kun much more reasonable after the Pharaoh’s Mind Crush?

As soon as the thought came into his head, Yuugi pushed it away.  He shivered, uncomfortable with even having conceived of such levels of violence being directed against boys no older than he.  “I know mou hitori no boku struggles with the darkness inside him,” he found himself thinking.  “Do I do the same?  Or…”  He swallowed, as a more horrible thought came to him:  “Is the Pharaoh’s darkness affecting me too?”  Yuugi had so hoped that the influence would go the other way, with his own innocence helping the beloved Spirit who shares his soul to walk away from his own darker impulses, and the idea that the influence might be going the other way instead, was troubling in the extreme,

A voice cut into his thoughts.  “Get into the car.”  Yuugi looked up, and saw the policeman, speaking to him.  “You’re cold,” he said.  “Get into my car, I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you.”  Yuugi clutched his bag to his chest, not noticing how the object was soaking his own pajamas top even more than it was already. He got into the police car, where the heat was blasting.  It felt so good!

The policeman got in and started the engine.   “You won’t be bothered by those boys anymore,” he said, interrupting Yuugi’s thoughts.  “What did they want from you anyway?”

“My deck.”  Outside the car window, Yuugi could still see Haga and Ryuzakis’ figures.  They receded quickly into the distance, soon becoming lost from view.  It was a relief to see the last of them.

“Your deck?  The police officer turned right, out of the alley.  Yuugi could already see the Game Shop up ahead, he could have gotten out and walked the rest of the way, but the heat inside the car felt so good.  “I know that’s important thing to you… umm, duelists?  Is that the right word?”

“It is, sir.”  Yuugi nodded.  The policeman’s small talk was also a relief.  He was going to have to have a talk with his Other Self when he got home.  Hadn’t the Pharaoh sworn not to play any more batsu games?  He’d thought he’d meant it, and it troubled him that his beloved Other would break a solemn vow like that, over the likes of Haga and Ryuzaki.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the Game Shop.  “You all right to get in by yourself?” the policeman asked.  “I can wait if you want. -- My boy’s going to be so jealous when he hears I gave the King of Games a ride home.”

Yuugi mumbled something, feeling awkward.  It always embarrassed him when people made a fuss over things that he’d done, which were, more often, things that the Pharaoh had done, using his identity.  He thanked the officer for his kind help and got out of the car, hurrying into the house, hoping against hope that his mother and grandfather would be safely asleep, and not awake, worrying about him.

Inside, to his relief, he found everything quiet.  How his family could have slept through all the commotion was a good question, but the boy was happy to find that they had.  He hurried upstairs to his bedroom in the attic, dumping his bag in the corner, to get hands free so he could change his soaked pajamas for a pair of dry ones.  Haga and Ryuzaki had left a hole in the window, and there was a cold wind blowing in.  Shivering, Yuugi crawled into bed and pulled his blankets up close.

Once in his warm bed again, it didn’t take Yuugi long to relax.  His eyelids grew heavy.  Soon he’d be asleep, and it was in sleep that he could visit with his Other Self.  He must be worried; the Pharaoh always worried about anything to do with Yuugi.  The boy closed his eyes, and within minutes, he was his Soul Room, surrounded by the toys that were a representation of his soul’s innocence.  Concerned for his beloved friend, Yuugi didn’t waste a minute in leaving his own room, crossing to the creepy looking door with the Eye on it, on the other side of the hall.  He entered the Soul Room, not fearing, or even noticing, the Escher-like maze inside, that was so familiar, after all his visits.  He looked around.  “Mou hitori no boku?  Where are you?”

“I am right here, Yuugi.”  The Pharaoh arrived, as if out of the darkness, popping up to Yuugi’s right, in that way that was only his.  His voice was warm, concerned.  “Are you alright, aibou?”

“I’m very angry with you,”  Yuugi poked the taller boy in the chest, trying for severity, looking more like a sneezing kitten than someone who was actually mad.  “You swore you would not play batsu game anymore, after what Pegasus-san told you.”

A flash of guilt was visible, only for a moment, in the Pharaoh’s dark-red eyes, then it was replaced with his usual fierce determination. “Those thieves took the God Cards, aibou.  I could not allow them to fall into the hands of such low-lives as they.”

“You know how I feel, mou hitori no boku, no one deserves a fate like that.”

“Aibou.”  The Pharaoh closed his hands around Yuugi’s and brought them to his lips. “You know I love you, and would do anything for you, but…”

“But?”  In spite of everything, and as always, Yuugi found it so hard to stay angry at his Other Self.

“I will not let anyone steal what is ours,” the Pharaoh said sternly.  “But aibou, please understand, I did not mean to leave you alone in that cold alley.  Look at you.”  He cupped Yuugi’s face in one gentle hand.  “You’re still shivering.”

“You worry too much about me.”  His Other Self’s touch felt so good, and Yuugi could feel himself relaxing into it.

“You are part of my soul, aibou.”  The Pharaoh’s voice was warm.  “Of course I worry.  You should not have to think about unworthy people like those two thieves.  Relax, my beloved, let me take care of you.”

His touch felt good, and his voice was so gentle.  “Sometimes I think I’m the one that takes care of you.”  All anger gone now, Yuugi gave a soft laugh.

The Pharaoh’s answer was completely serious.  “You are my soul’s light, aibou,” he said.  “I could not survive losing you.”  His grip on Yuugi’s hand tightened, becoming almost painful.  “You think it is only the Gods that I protect?”

“No...”

“I would protect you twice as hard, aibou.  Those thieves would be in the Shadows right now, if they had touched a hair on your head.”  Yuugi could hear his Other Self take a deep breath; he was trying to calm himself, he knew.  “Sleep now, beloved.”  The Pharaoh brushed a kiss across Yuugi’s forehead.  “You need your rest.”

“I should…”  Yuugi yawned.  It occurred to him that he should check the bag he’d retrieved from Haga and Ryuzaki.  It must be wet, and his deck might be wet too.  “The bag,” he said. “I should check it.”

“Why?”  The Pharaoh pulled Yuugi close, stroking his hair, brushing soft kisses across his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks.  “I saw you put the God Cards back where they belonged.  I am sure anything else can wait until morning.”

He did put them back, Yuugi remembered.  And he’d closed his deck box, and he knew from experience that it was watertight.  There were other things in the bag too, the Sennen Rod, that he’d gotten from Malik-kun, and some of the other Items as well.  Haga and Ryuzaki wouldn’t have cared about those, though, would they?  Their interest was only in the Cards.  Yuugi leaned close to the Pharaoh, soaking in the warmth of his body.  It felt so good!

“Go to sleep now, aibou,” the Pharaoh said again, and there in his gentle arms, Yuugi slept.


	2. TWO WEEKS LATER

**SCENE:  AVENGERS TOWER**  
It was a SHIELD mission, some kind of robbery or something, and they had to go retrieve the stolen goods or whatever, Tony’s got enough to do dealing with his own business, without keeping track of everything Nick and those guys are up to.  What he knows?  He’s hanging around Avenger’s Tower one nice, relaxing afternoon sometime in August.  Bruce is talking to him about an idea he’s had for improving the Arc Reactor, and then suddenly boom, here are Cap and Clint and Natasha, back from wherever they were, with this bagful of supposedly super-important things that they confiscated from who-knows-who.

“Confiscated goods?”  Naturally, he protests.  “Cops have places to put this shit, don’t they?  Why does it have to come here?”

And, blah-blah-blah, apparently Nick wants them all on this, he wants this shit all sorted and cataloged, _by them_ , who knows why.

“We _have_ to do this?” Tony asks.

And, “Yes,” Cap says, “ _we_ have to do this.”

Him and Bruce in the workroom:  Stuff’s all in this big sack, and Tony opens it up, and starts taking things out.  Glittery-sparkly thing in his hand:  “A Fabergé egg?  We’re receiving stolen goods these days, are we?”

“Russian, probably,” Bruce says.  “Didn’t the Kremlin report a burglary recently?”

“Maybe.”  Tony shrugs. None of his business if people are stealing stuff from the thieves in charge of Russia.  He digs further into the bag.  “Is any of this stuff valuable?  Why is it valuable?  What even is this stuff?”

Rummage-rummage, Bruce’s hand passes his, inside the bag, and something comes out.  Some kind of necklace.  A gold necklace, sort of half-buried, half-tangled under all the other stuff.  “What’s this?” Bruce says.

Tony’s like, “I dunno, it’s a necklace.”

Necklace comes free.  It’s a chain, a little tangled, with this big, ugly Egyptian-style pendant in the middle.  Circle, with a pyramid and an eye in the middle, some real Illuminati-looking shit here, and three or four little pendants, hanging down from that.  Necklace swings a little, in Bruce’s big hand.  It’s just jewelry, really ugly jewelry, what the hell is there about this, to make it worth the Avengers’ attention?

“Not interested, Bruce,” Tony says.  “Put it away.  You were talking about the Arc Reactor?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago.”  Bruce sighs.  “I don’t like this either, Tony, but the sooner we catalog this stuff, the sooner we’re done with it.”  He lays the necklace down, grabs the list SHIELD sent over, along with the bagful of shit.  “What would you say this is, Tony?”  Said, as he’s scanning the list.  “Antique torque…  A torque’s a necklace, isn’t it?”

“Fucked if I know.”  Tony peers over his shoulder, looking at the list.  “I don’t think so.  What else is there that it could be?  17th century chain?”  Further examination proves that this is a heavy, ugly thing, made out of badly-cut diamonds.  “Sennen Ring, maybe?”

“Sennen’s an Old English word.”  Naturally Bruce knows this stuff without looking it up.  “Also the name of a village in Cornwall.  Also, this isn’t a ring.”

Tony has the list now, and he’s reading.  “Says here the Sennen Ring is a necklace, dates back to Ancient Egypt.  Maybe this is it.  Says here, there are legends that say it has powers.”

“Powers?”

“Supernatural powers, Bruce.”

Skeptical tone, from the curly-haired scientist at his side.  “Suddenly you believe in the supernatural, Tony?”

The Ring’s kind of swinging, almost vibrating in his hands.  Maybe it does have powers, some kind of powers…  “A lot of those old legends are true,” Tony says, “but with a scientific basis.  You know that, right, Bruce?  Maybe this thing is…”  Ideas are coming to him now, lots of ideas, coming faster and faster.  “I think we should do some tests on this,” he says.

“Hold on, Tony, SHIELD only wants us to catalog it.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.  A few tests won’t hurt their precious Ring.”  Tony uses the one argument that always convinces his friend.  “Don’t you want to find out more about this thing?”

Light in Bruce’s eyes, he wants to, he wants to so bad.  “How do you run tests on a necklace?”

It’s a good question.  “A necklace with supernatural powers,” Tony says.  It feels like a distinction, but does it make any difference?  Do the powers make it easier to test this thing, or harder?   

“Hard to test any kind of a necklace.  Any way we could make this easier, Tony?”  Bruce stops for a minute, thinking.  “We can scan it, I guess, see what it’s made out of.”

Interesting:  Scan reveals that the thing is 95% pure gold.  “5% unidentified mass…”  This is Bruce, talking.  “I deducted it from the weight, but I can’t identify what that other material is.”

The other material feels important.  In some way, it feels like the key to this whole thing, but how?  Why?  “Ancient Egypt...”  Tony thinks aloud.  “Probably this was a gift to a Pharaoh…”  Trace of emotion, deep down inside, as he says this, but what emotion?  And why?  “Probably it was stolen, maybe by tomb robbers, or a tomb robber…”  There’s more of them.  What are these emotions?  “Who knows how an artifact like this finds its way around the world, or why? The…”  He breaks off, his attention suddenly caught by Bruce.

“Tony…”  Bruce is staring at him, his eyes very wide.

The Ring is dangling from Tony’s hands, it’s just dangling there, and he’s just talking.  Then suddenly he notices that Bruce is staring at him.

“Tony!”  His friend takes a step forward.

“What?  What’s the matter?”

“The Ring!”  Bruce points.  “What is it doing?”

Tony looks down at the little gold ornament, suspended from his hand.  All five of its prongs are standing up, pointing to Tony, hovering in the air, as though...

Question coming from Bruce:  It feels like it’s being forced out of him.  “Why’s it doing that?”

There’s that emotion again, that one deep down inside him.  It’s an… attraction?  Is that the right word?  It’s just a couple seconds that go by, barely any time at all, and all the prongs fall back down into their original position.

“You said supernatural powers, Tony?”  It’s hard to shock a guy who can change into a super-powerful being like Hulk, but right now Bruce is clearly shocked.  “Maybe we need to stop the testing?” he says.

“Maybe…”  Deep-down inside, Tony feels this feeling.  He doesn’t want to stop the testing, that’s the last thing he wants to do.   _He wants to do more testing_.  This is just research, he tells himself, and that’s all it is.  There is that same deep-down part inside him that maybe doesn’t feel that way, but it’s wrong, it has to be.  Weird feelings about doing tests on an inanimate object:  Those are irrational, they have to be, and they mean nothing.  And that faint laughter at the back of his mind?  That’s not real, it can’t be.  Where would laughter like that be coming from?

“Tony?”  Bruce’s voice cuts into his thoughts.  “Tony, wake up!”

“Huh?”  There’s irritation there.   _At Bruce_.  Why would he be feeling irritation at his best friend?  Tony looks at Bruce.  “Sorry, my mind must have wandered there, for a minute. -- So, what was it you were saying?  More tests, right?”

“I think we should just give this thing to SHIELD,” Bruce says.  “They have people they can go to, Dr. Strange, others…”

Why does it feel like it’s life-and-death that he keep the Ring here?  Why does it make him feel angry just hearing Bruce talk about someone else taking it?  “Yeah, yeah, we’ll do that.”  Tony makes no move to put the artifact down.  He’s looking at it, he’s turning it in his hand, first this way, then that, watching the prongs, that are now just hanging straight down again, the way they’re supposed to.  “We’ll definitely give it to SHIELD,” he says, but let’s…”

An idea:  Suddenly, Tony’s speaking, the words practically tumbling out.  “You know SETI, Bruce?  Experiment from the 1970’s, they were sending a message into space, to see if there was anyone out there to answer?”  He opens up a screen on his computer, starts tapping in commands.  “I wonder if JARVIS can make contact…  If there’s anything in this thing that JARVIS could talk to.”

Bruce is watching Tony.  He’s getting excited about this, just like he does with every experiment.  Tony never sees the possible dangers when there’s a new experiment in the offing, it’s one of his worst qualities.  Now, for instance:  SETI?  That was meant as a way with communicating with other sentient beings.  Does he think there’s a sentient being inside the Ring?  Creepy thought, about the way the prongs of the Ring were standing up a moment ago, and all pointing toward Tony…  What did that mean?  Could it really have meant anything?

Tony turns.  He’s holding the Ring again, even though Bruce could have sworn he’d set it down so he could feed data into the computer. Now he’s holding it again… why?

Bruce pushes this irrational paranoia aside.  He looks at the Ring.  It’s an inanimate object, and that’s all it is.  “How’s JARVIS going to make contact with this thing?”

Tony shrugs.  Bruce’s mind wants to say he’s being a little too casual, but he pushes the thought aside.  “Good question.”  He grins.  “That’s the fun part, isn’t it?”

 _Fun_ isn’t exactly the word Bruce would have used.  “And we’ve ruled out talking to Dr. Strange?”

“No.”  Tony’s typing again, that super-fast one-fingered typing style of his.  “We’ll talk to him.  I just want to get the data from this test first, so we’ll have something to show him.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Bruce says, knowing full well Tony’s still going to do exactly what he wants to do, no matter what he says.  “This thing gives me the creeps.  I think…”  The flash of lights from the computer stops him, before he can say more.

The two scientists watch.  First there are the lights, then JARVIS’s cool voice.  “Sir, what is it you ask?”

“Talk to this thing.”  Tony touches the Ring, his hand...  Bruce tells himself that he didn’t just see his best friend touching an inanimate object, like it was a lover.  He tells himself that, but he can’t quite make himself believe it.

“The gold necklace?”  JARVIS, for once in his life, sounds confused.

“The _Ring_.”  Tony’s voice is wrong too, it’s too...  Too what, too enthusiastic?  But that’s just crazy. “You’re probably not going to get anything,” Tony tells his AI, “but I want you to try.  Just see if you can communicate with it.”

“Right away, sir.”  The emotion-modulation on JARVIS really is advanced beyond any belief; now he sounds sarcastic, and very, very skeptical.  “If you want me to communicate with a gold necklace, Master Tony…  They say the Red Queen made a practice of believing seven impossible things before breakfast.”

Impossible?  “ _What if it’s not impossible?_ ”  The weird, creepy thought came into Bruce’s head, and he fights back, hard.  Of course it’s impossible; you don’t communicate with inanimate objects.  The thought of Loki’s scepter comes into his mind as well.  But that was an alien artifact, whatever this thing is, at least it’s from Earth.  “ _Nothing’s going to happen,_ ” Bruce tells himself, “ _we’re just going to leave for a few hours, and when we come back, JARVIS is going to tell us he couldn’t get any response._ ”

“Do it.”  Tony’s voice, giving orders to JARVIS.  His voice, sounding sharper than he ever normally gets with his AI, but that’s probably Bruce’s imagination too.  He’s just too jittery right now, that’s the problem.

“Yes sir,” JARVIS says.

And a moment later, “Can we finish up cataloging, Tony?” Bruce asks.  “In another room, preferably.”  For some reason he can’t explain, he feels like he’s not going to be comfortable until he’s no longer in the same room with the Ring.


	3. ONE WEEK LATER

**SCENE:  A NATIONAL PARK, SOMEWHERE NEAR SAN FRANCISCO**  
The trailer is very quiet, everyone else besides Yuugi having gone somewhere.  A Waffle House?  Was that the name of the place?  Jounouchi was very excited to go, and Honda and Otogi seemed so eager as well.  Anzu… Well, she kept looking strangely at him, understandable really, considering the terrible ordeals the friends have been through together.  Finally Professor Hopkins stepped in.  “I’ll leave Yuugi my cell phone,” he said.  “Rebecca’s number is on speed-dial, he can get to us with just one touch if he needs us.”  Even though she didn’t very reassured by that, Anzu accepted it.

Now the trailer is so quiet it feels like it echoes.  Yuugi takes a deep breath.  It feels like he’s been going forever, with no chance for a break.  He thinks about what’s been accomplished in the past month:  The trapped souls of Pegasus-san and Mai-san are free, Dartz has gone to join his family in the Afterlife.  Most especially the separation from his beloved Other Self is finally ended, and Yuugi has been reunited with the Pharaoh finally, after too long an absence.  Yuugi looks around.  There’s a sofa right near where he’s standing.  Could he sleep if he tried?  It feels like forever since he’s had a really good rest.  Now, with the Pharaoh there…  

He is there, isn’t he?  Because he’s been keeping very silent.  Unthinking, Yuugi’s hands move to cup the Puzzle.  It feels cold, sharper than usual.  The Pharaoh’s been so silent, ever since the DOMA events ended.  He is there, right?  Is it because he still feels guilty and ashamed?  Is he still recovering of all the darkness he shouldered?

The sofa feels very comfortable.  And it’s so quiet around here, just the rustling of the trees and the sound of birds singing.  Yuugi stretches out, he feels his eyes drifting shut.  If only the Pharaoh would come to him, right now, this would be perfect.  If only they could share a few moments together, in one of the Soul Rooms, but they’ll get back to that soon, won’t they?  For now, just to rest…

The sound of a phone ringing jolts him awake.  His phone?  But hadn’t it run out of battery?  Half-asleep, the boy barely remembers the cell phone Professor Hopkins loaned him.  It’s lying on the table next to the sofa.  A StarkPhone, very slim, and modern, and shiny.  It makes Yuugi’s old flip-phone look so cheap, not that he cares.  The StarkPhone’s still ringing.  Yuugi reaches for it, picks it up.

It takes a moment for him to find the button to answer the call.  Fortunately whoever’s on the other end doesn’t give up before then.  “Moshi moshi?” Yuugi says into the flat surface of the StarkPhone.

“Yuugi-kun?”  A mild voice, gentle.  Bakura-kun’s?

“Bakura-kun, is that you?”

“It’s me.” the voice of his friend has a weird echo to it. Yuugi sees all kinds of buttons on the phone, but he has no idea how to improve the quality of the sound. It doesn’t matter, as long as he can understand him.

“Bakura-kun? How did you know to call at this number?”

“Your grandfather...”  Whatever’s wrong with the reception of the call, it is very wrong; Yuugi’s not catching half of what his friend is saying.  “I wanted…” something.  “...I need to talk to you, Yuugi-kun, something’s happened.”

“Happened?”  There’s urgency in Bakura’s voice, Yuugi can make it out even with the bad reception.  “What’s happened, Bakura-kun?”

There’s a long silence.  Yuugi wants to speak up and ask just what’s going on, but before he can, Bakura speaks again.  “It’s about the Ring,” he says.  “And The Other, the dark one.”

Bakura is speaking about the Dark Spirit of the Sennen Ring.  Just as there is a connection between the Pharaoh and Yuugi, so there is the same weird symbiosis, between Bakura and the Spirit of the Ring.

“I have the Ring, remember?”  Yuugi doesn’t really believe that his friend has forgotten this.  The Ring came into his possession at the same time the Rod did, right after Malik’s dark side was defeated.  Bakura asked for it then, but he accepted it politely enough when Yuugi told him he wouldn’t give it back.  Is that what he’s calling about now?  But why is it so urgent that he get the Ring back immediately?

“What’s going on, Bakura-kun?”  Yuugi tells himself this is going to turn out to be nothing, he tells himself the only reason his stomach is in knots right now is because he’s thinking about the Spirit of the Ring.  The Dark Bakura can be very dangerous, and the thought of dealing with him again is enough to make anyone uncomfortable.

“The Other…”  The reception on this StarkPhone really is horrible.  Is it because they’re so far out, here at the trailer?  All these mountains, and the miles and miles beyond that, before you come to a real city, they can weaken a phone connection, can’t they?  “I…”  Bakura cuts out for a moment, then he’s back.  “I’m noticing something,” he says.  “I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.”

Yuugi has never asked Bakura how much aware he is of everything. Of that dark entity that shares his body, mind and soul, and how much he’s affected by it. But what he’s saying… about ‘noticing something’... that indicates that Bakura might be _very well_ aware of what’s going on, right? He tells himself to stay calm. Bakura is his friend, and he wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to call him if it wasn’t something very serious.

“Bakura-kun, when did you notice?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”  Bakura’s hesitant voice.  “I think it was… two weeks?  Perhaps..?”

If the Pharaoh were here, he could get to the bottom of this so much faster.  Yuugi’s starting to feel very worried, but he feels helpless too, so far away from his friend, and he can’t seem to even get a straight story out of him.  “Bakura-kun…”  It’s not a question, it’s not even a comment.

“I didn’t notice at first, Yuugi-kun.”  The words come so slowly.  Bakura’s probably not sure what he even wants to say, and Yuugi should be patient with him, but it’s so hard.  “I have these… these gaps…”

Yuugi wants to say it’s the Dark Bakura doing that, he wants to say it so badly, but he keeps quiet.

“I’ve found myself in strange situations sometimes,” Bakura says, “and I don’t have any idea how I got there.  It’s my…  It’s the Other doing it, don’t you think, Yuugi-kun?”

“That’s why I wouldn’t give the Ring back to you, Bakura-kun,” Yuugi says.  “You remember, when you asked?  The Dark Spirit… he’s dangerous and unpredictable.”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line.  Yuugi can hear his friend breathing, and nothing more.  Then, “Yuugi-kun…”  The soft voice begins again.  “You have to know they’re not dependent on the Item,” Bakura says, “the Spirits, I mean.  They’re in our souls,” he says.

The soft words strike a chill into Yuugi’s heart, because they’re true, aren’t they?  Memories invade Yuugi’s mind:  Battle City, a mind-controlled Bandit Keith stealing the Sennen Puzzle, and the Pharaoh was there.  They could talk to each other, but when the Pharaoh tried to take over Yuugi’s body to duel, he wasn’t able to do it.  This is what Bakura’s talking about, isn’t it?  Does he share a similar connection with the Spirit of the Ring?

“He can talk to you, Bakura-kun?  The Spirit can talk to you?”

“That, but it’s more than that.”  Bakura’s voice, so simple and stark, crackling a little, from their bad connection.  “You have the Item,” he says, “but I still have the Entity.”

What a horrible thing to happen to anyone, it suddenly occurs to Yuugi to realize.  And he realizes also, that it’s been forever since he’s done anything to involve Bakura as a friend.  “I’m so sorry, Bakura-kun…”  Yuugi thinks about how alone Bakura always is, and how little he’s done to help.  “I should have,” he starts, but with no idea how to finish the sentence.

“Don’t blame yourself, Yuugi-kun.”  Bakura’s voice is completely neutral, completely indifferent.  “The Spirits recognize something inside us,” he says.  “I think the Entity saw something in me, some weakness, or anger maybe.  I think that’s why he chose me, Yuugi.”  Another long silence.  Yuugi struggles to think of what he can say, and, on the other end, Bakura is struggling with something as well.  Then he speaks again.  “That isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.  Something’s changed, Yuugi-kun.  The Spirit…  His presence isn’t as strong as...”  Bakura interrupts himself, starts again.  “I think you should check on the Ring, Yuugi-kun,” he says.  “Do you still have it?”

“Yes, of course.”  Yuugi’s answer is automatic, but as soon as it’s out of his mouth, he starts to think.  When was the last time he actually saw the Ring?  Or handled it?  He looks over toward the bag in the corner.  The Ring’s in there, it has to be, just like it has been in there, ever since he got it.  He packed it himself when they accepted Pegasus-san’s invitation to come to the US, surely he’d have seen if the Ring weren’t there?  But _when_ was the last time he checked what was in there?

“You have it?”  There’s a sound on the other end of the phone line.  A breath of relief, or a sigh?

“What is it, Bakura-kun?” Yuugi cringes at the tone of his own voice.  It’s like a mother, babying a little child.  What a rude way to talk to a friend!  “I’m sorry,” he tries again.  “You don’t sound very relieved, Bakura-kun.  Why not?”

“His presence...”  There’s that weird, hesitant voice.  Bakura can’t seem to say anything without it. “It’s not…  I don’t know, something’s different, and I don’t know what.  You have to understand, Yuugi-kun, I don’t want it to be like it is…  Like it always used to be.  ...I didn’t want it, but I got used to it, and now it’s different.”

A shiver runs down his spine.  Bakura’s words are only the more disturbing, for being so vague.  “I’m sorry, Bakura-kun,” Yuugi says.

“Don’t be, Yuugi-kun.  At least I can talk to you about this,” Bakura says.  “At least you understand what the Spirits are like.”

Yuugi understands.  Just the thought of being separated from the Pharaoh makes his stomach plunge.  Unthinking, he cups the Puzzle in his free hand, taking comfort from the cool, metallic feel of it.  He swallows, trying to be comforting for his friend.  “I will check on the Ring,” he says.   “Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s going to be all right.”

“I’d really like my Ring back,” Bakura says, his voice barely audible; not from the bad connection this time, but because he’s speaking so softly. “It was a gift from my father,” he says, knowing he’s asking the impossible.

“I know.”  Yuugi tugs at the Puzzle.  The one he got from his grandfather, the one that holds his beloved Other Self.  “I’m sorry, Bakura-kun,” he says.  “I’ll check on the Ring right now, okay?”

“Please, Yuugi-kun, please do.”

Off the phone with his friend, Yuugi sits for a moment, doing nothing.  He stares at the StarkPhone in his hand, as if he expects it to tell him what to do.  Bakura is worried about the Ring, he says something has happened.  He says something’s _changed_ …  Yuugi flashes suddenly on the night when Haga and Ryuzaki tried to steal the God Cards.  They took his bag, right?  And then they…  Didn’t they lose it somewhere, and then the police officer found it for him?  He looks over at it, still sitting quietly in the corner.  It looks completely undisturbed, but what if something was taken out of it before the policeman found it?  How could he not have noticed, and the Pharaoh as well?

“Mou hitori no boku…”  Yuugi has never had to speak aloud to connect with the Other Spirit who shares his soul, but he does now, his voice no more than a whisper.  “Are you there?” he says softly.  “I need you.”

“Aibou.”  The Pharaoh’s voice comes quickly, calm, and totally composed.  He’s been here the whole time, hasn’t he, Yuugi thinks, feeling comforted.  He closes his eyes, entering his Soul Room out of habit, so he can talk to his Other face-to-face.  The Pharaoh is already waiting for him in the hallway that divides the Soul Room in two.  Apparently, he doesn’t want Yuugi in his own section, the door to which is closed.  He puts out his arms with his old warm welcome, though, and Yuugi goes to him, welcoming the comfort of his hug.  “What is wrong?” the Pharaoh asks.  “Tell me, aibou.”

“You heard my conversation with Bakura-kun?”  Yuugi already knows the answer.

“I heard, aibou.”  Yuugi hears something like apprehension, in the other’s voice.

“The bag.  You thought there was something missing at the time, didn’t you?” Yuugi says.  “That’s why  you asked me to check it?”

“This whole thing is my fault, aibou,” the Pharaoh says.  “I should have pressed the issue, but I did not.  I told you to get some sleep.  Or I could have checked the bag myself.”

Yuugi knows that his Other is always quick to blame himself.  “It’s _not_ your fault, mou hitori no boku,” he tells him.

“We will check the bag now.  Yuugi, will you please...”

“If it is not there, we’re going to have to find it,” the boy responds.

A nod from the Pharaoh.  “Please check at once, aibou.”

Leaving the company of his Other, Yuugi returns to reality and walks over to the bag, picking it up, trying to ignore his fear about what he’s going to find.  The Ring’s not going to be there, is it? He grabs the zipper, pulling it down.  Sure enough, there under the golden box, and the other things he always keeps in there, he finds his worries confirmed:  No Ring.  He’s failed the Pharaoh, failed all his friends…  Yuugi’s failed Bakura too, hasn’t he?  He’s lost one of the Items that is key to the Pharaoh’s finally being able to defeat the powers of Darkness, so Bakura can have his freedom again.  He takes a deep breath, checks it again.  It’s there, isn’t it?  It has to be.  With a surge of adrenaline, he tumbles everything out onto the bed and roots through it, but the result is still the same.  “We have to find it...”  He’s not even aware that he’s speaking aloud.  “We just _have to_!”


	4. THREE DAYS LATER

**SCENE:  AVENGERS TOWER** **  
** The Sennen Ring is a really disturbing object.  Bruce didn’t notice at first, but the more time he spends around the thing, the more it’s been starting to make him uncomfortable.  Fortunately, Tony doesn’t seem to have the same problem.  He’s been working with the thing nonstop for about a week now, getting ready for their report to SHIELD.  Bruce will come in, and he’ll always be there, studying the notes he’s collected, adding, editing the memo he’s preparing, fingering that weird Ring, or dangling it from his fingers, the weight of it looking almost too much for that ugly worn rope it’s attached to.  It’s hard to know how he can even stand it, but under the circumstances, isn’t it a good thing that one of them can?

“Interesting thing I found out just this morning.”  Tony runs one finger gently along the surface of the Ring, and Bruce holds back a shudder.  This is him being squeamish, isn’t it?  Normal people don’t react like this to inanimate objects.  

“Yeah, Tony?  What’s that?”

“The Ring.”  Tony picks it up… again.  It swings from that ugly rope, always looking just ready to break, but somehow never breaking.  For a minute, Tony looks like he can’t keep his eyes off it, then he turns, fingers tap-tapping the keyboard again.  “You remember Duelist Kingdom, Bruce?”

“Duelist what?”  Slowly the memories start to come back:  It was in the news awhile back, wasn’t it?  Something to do with a rich American…  Warren Buffett?  Donald Trump?  No, it was the one they called the Gaming Tycoon, wasn’t it?  The one with the weird hair.

“Pegasus J. Crawford.”  Tony says the name, just as Bruce remembers it.  “He owns that card game all the kids like, and he’s got a connection with the Ring.”

“A connection?”  Bruce is going to feel like a parrot if he’s not careful.  “Tell me more,” he says.  “Tony, why don’t you just tell me the whole thing, and save us both a lot of time.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”  Tony motions to a chair.  “Sit down, Bruce”

The chair is way too close to the Ring for Bruce’s taste, but this is irrational, isn’t it?  He sits down.  Tony smiles at him.  “Have I got a story to tell you!” He’s still dangling the Ring, it almost looks like he doesn’t even know he’s holding it, like it’s become involuntary.  First off,” he says, “this thing has an owner.”

 _An owner?_  Bruce catches himself at the last moment before he parrots the words out loud.  “You mean we’ve found out who to return this thing to?” he says instead.

“Kid named Yuugi Moutou… -- Sorry.”  Tony catches himself.  “Moutou Yuugi, he’s Japanese, that’s how he’d say it.  And when I say kid, Bruce, I mean a real kid.  Documentation says he’s sixteen.”

“Since when do sixteen-year olds own rare Egyptian artifacts?”

“I know, right?”  Tony is having way too much fun, working with this item that would give any normal person the creeps.  He just keeps touching it, handling it, playing with it, and all the while he’s talking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.  “Look, here’s how I found out.”  He opens a screen, motions to Bruce to come look over his shoulder.

Feeling uncomfortable at having to get even closer to the Ring, Bruce looks.  The picture is from a news broadcast:  An Asian boy with a spiked haircut, smiling weakly up at the silver-haired Crawford, with a chyron underneath, reading, “Reclusive billionaire, Pegasus J. Crawford, in critical condition after mysterious accident.”

“Reclusive, ha!” Tony says very cheerfully.  “That’s newscaster-speak for he’s crazy.”  He points at the boy in the picture.  “See him?  That’s Moutou Yuugi.  Look at what he’s wearing, Bruce.”

Bruce looks.  The boy’s wearing a heavy pendant.  Gold-colored, like the Ring, it’s also got…  “The design looks like the one on the Ring.”

“Doesn’t just look like it, it’s the same.  An Egyptian Eye, Bruce.  Because they’re both part of a set.”

 _A set_.  Bruce eyes the pyramid-shaped…  Item?  There’s got to be a better name for it than that.  Whatever it is, it doesn’t give off sympathetic vibes, does it?  It looks cold, distant, …dangerous.  How can an inanimate object be dangerous?  He swallows, addresses Tony.  “I guess you’ve found out what are the objects of the set?”

“Yeppers.”  Tony taps, opens a new screen.  He points.  “There’s the Ring.”  Bruce catches a glimpse of the gold circlet, worn by a boy in a striped shirt.  Another screen:  “That one’s called the Rod.”  It’s a ceremonial hatchet of some kind, sharpish blade, on top of an ugly orb-thing, with the Eye symbol on it.

Another screen opens, Bruce sees a large, key-like object.  “Tony, I think you’ve done more than enough research,” he says.  “We were supposed to catalogue the objects, now you’re acting obsessed.”  Is he?  After all, they were told to find out more about the stolen items, weren’t they?  Maybe it’s Bruce, that’s overreacting getting squeamish, about something that’s just part of their job?

“Nah, Bruce, don’t think so.”  Tony’s tapping keys, moving from screen to screen and making notes.  All the while there’s the Ring, constantly in his hands, under them, like he can’t leave it alone.  Even when he puts it down, he keeps touching it, caressing it, until he picks it up again and it’s driving Bruce crazy.  “Don’t let this job get to you,” Tony tells him.  “Yeah, the Items are weird…  You know I’m starting to re-think the concept of supernatural powers?”

 _Why?_  Bruce resists asking the question.  Tony, the great rationalist, the guy who’d sworn there was a natural explanation for all the magical things Loki did during the invasion, is starting to believe in the supernatural now?  But isn’t this just part of the general weirdness about him that he’s been noticing?  “Finish the story,” he says instead, his voice sounding weak, even to his own ears.

Tony looks at him.  “Bruce, you don’t have to be like that.”  He looks back at the screen.  “Where was I?  Right.  There’s seven Items in the set.  Any one of them would be worth a king’s ransom on the black-market. Look here, Bruce...”  He brings up another screen.  On it, bad snapshots, too-distant images, the gold looking dull, uninteresting.  But if you look?  There’s that ugly Egyptian Eye, on them, a recurring pattern.  “Know what this is?”  He reads from the screen, “Offer:  200 bitcoins… -- Look, Bruce!”  Another screen.  “Four hundred bitcoins… -- These are all over the internet, Bruce, you just have to know where to look.  These things…”  Another loving touch to the Ring.  “They’re very valuable, and it’s about the stories, that say they have powers.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the stories.”  One, he’s seen one.  The one that was in the notes SHIELD sent over:  Stories of mind-control, related to the Ring.  Given how Tony’s acting, is that really so implausible anymore?  How does someone act when they’re mind-controlled? Bruce thinks back and remembers when Loki had Clint mind-controlled:  It was different from this, at any rate.  Maybe he’s just letting his paranoia get to him.  

“I’m compiling databases for SHIELD,” Tony continues meanwhile, still sounding like he doesn’t have a care in the world.  “One shows demand for the Items…  Which is crazy-strong, let me tell you, those two ads I showed you before don’t even begin to scratch the surface.  There’s people all over the world, searching for these things.  You know the other stuff in the bag we got?”

“Fabergé egg, and umm...”  Bruce trails off, it’s hard to focus even on a simple task like making a list, with the Ring right there.  “What’s the other database?” he says.

“Stories.”  Tony says it very lightly.  “Interesting stories, Bruce.  Crawford had one of the Items, did you know that?”  He waits, Bruce doesn’t answer, then he continues  “Thing called the Eye,” he says.  “Stories say it has the power to read minds.”  The very idea sounds disturbing as hell, but Tony just laughs.  “Plenty of times when I’ve been glad Pepper didn’t have that power.  Can you just imagine?”

“Pepper can read your mind, Tony.”  Bruce gives the obligatory light answer, but inside he’s feeling nothing but uncomfortable.  “I’ve seen her do it,” he says.

Tony laughs (too hard, for such a weak joke).  “Yeah, I guess you have.  Anyway, though, that’s the Eye’s power. The plausible one, anyway.  There are some weird stories out there about Crawford putting people’s souls in inanimate objects, but how would that even work?  Natural that there’d be some unfounded rumors too.  And the Ring’s power? -- Documented, I’ve seen. -- Most of the stories say what it does is mind-control, although there are more stories than you’d think about it also being able to put souls into inanimate objects.  Something about a game some kids were playing…  I don’t know, Bruce.”

Bruce tries to concentrate.  It’s getting harder and harder, with Tony playing with the Ring like that.  The Ring, that supposedly has mind-control powers…  “Tony, can you put that thing away?” he says finally.  “I can’t concentrate with it...”

A huffy response:  “Fine, fine, fine,”  Bruce hears a drawer opening, then shutting again.  He risks a glance…  The Ring is gone.   _Good_.  “You’re being really weird about this,” Tony says, but he ignores him.

“Tell me the rest of the story.”

“I think I’ll just let you read the database,” Tony says.  “You’re getting really weird, Bruce, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.  But I think it behooves us as Avengers, to get as much data as we can on the Items.  If even a fraction of the stuff I’m reading about them is true is true…  We think computers are powerful,” he says, “but these things could revolutionize the whole world.”

Yeah, revolutionize it for the worse.  Bruce flashes for a moment on Loki’s invasion:  That was bad enough.  But at least that was just one man.  What would the world look like with magical powers in people’s hands?  “You could do the research without having the Ring, though, right?”  This is like a last-ditch effort:  Get the thing out of Tony’s hands, before…   _But, before what?_

“Well, I could...”  Naturally, Tony sounds hesitant.   _Because he’s already under the thing’s control..._  The thought comes into Bruce’s head, and he pushes it away.  Please god, let that not be true, let it be anything else besides that.  Iron-Man, under someone else’s control…  Under whose control?  Then Tony turns and looks at Bruce directly.  “I had a dream, Bruce.”

A dream, brought up, all out of the blue, right now...   _Why?_  Bruce thinks back, summons what he remembers from his counseling courses.  “A dream,” he says slowly.  “Go on.”

“Nothing important.”  Tony’s being dismissive.  “I don’t know why I brought it up, I know you’re not _that kind of doctor_.  But it just occurred to me, and I thought I’d say it.”

“Tony, will you tell me already?”

“A dream,” Tony continues, the words coming slowly.  “I’ve been having them for a while now, I’m not sure how long.”

 _Since he got the Ring_ , that weird, disturbing part of Bruce’s brain tells him, _that’s how long_.   

“I must sound like I’m crazy,” Tony continues.  “I know it doesn’t make sense, Bruce.”

“Yeah?”  If the Ring is controlling Tony…  If the thing inside the Ring, whatever that is, is controlling him…

“The dreams.”  Bruce speaks hesitantly, carefully.  “What are they about, Tony?”

“I don’t know.”  The voice of a frustrated scientist, who hasn’t been able to get to the core of the problem yet. “I keep seeing faces, but I don’t know whose faces.  No one I ever saw in real life, I’m pretty sure of that.  And something… like a village?  Some kind of ancient village, does that make any sense at all?”

“A dream doesn’t have to make sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t.”  Tony gestures, as if dismissing the idea of dreams making sense, that he was the one to bring up in the first place. “Forget I even mentioned it. -- There’s a word that keeps coming into my mind.  Kul Elna:  Does that make any sense to you, Bruce?  Does it connect with…  Well, with anything, really?”

“None of this makes any sense at all, Tony,” Bruce says.  “But if you are having feelings that you might be mind-controlled…  If that’s even an issue…”   _Get away from the Ring_ , he wants to say, _let us do the research, you just stay away_.  But it would be a waste of breath, wouldn’t it?  He keeps his mouth shut.

“I’m going to hook it up to JARVIS again.”  Tony points at the drawer, where the Ring is.  “If there is an intelligence in there, it can be contacted, and we can find out things.”


	5. ONE DAY LATER

**SCENE:  CONFERENCE ROOM, AVENGERS TOWER  
** The number on the list for the Fabergé egg is a law office.  Easy phone call:  “Hello, I understand your firm handles accounts for Billionaire X?  We have something of his, when can you pick it up?”  Easy businesslike people, who take care of the arrangements without prompting.  Natasha hangs up the phone, and ticks one more name off her share of the list.

Across the room, Bruce is still on the phone.  He’s handling the call about the Sennen Ring, an ugly gold trinket that Bruce says came out of an Egyptian tomb.  Bruce and Tony have both been getting very strange whenever they talk about the Ring.  Supposedly of Ancient Egyptian origin, it apparently belongs now to a Japanese teenager, and rather than ask questions about whether such a valuable artifact belongs in the hands of a child or not, they both just seem dead-set on getting the kid to New York as soon as possible, and giving him back his Ring.

“Hello?”  This is Bruce, on the phone.  “Kame Game Shop?  am I speaking to Mr. Moutou…  Sorry, is this Moutou-san, speaking?”  Vague mumble on the other end, and then, “He’s not?  Well…  Where?”

Quick scratch-scratch of Bruce’s pencil, he hangs up, immediately starts dialing again.  A long silence, some muttered swears.  Bruce usually manages to keep pretty calm, but for some reason this Ring seems to make him really uncomfortable.  Next step is going to be a break-out of the Other Guy, and nobody wants that.  Bruce dials again, and again, and a third time, before he finally gets an answer.

“Hello?  Professor Hawkins?  I understand you know where I can find Moutou Yuugi?”

__________________________

 **SCENE:  A NATIONAL PARK, SOMEWHERE NEAR SAN FRANCISCO**  
The Avenger that’s calling him is Bruce Banner.  He’s one of the Avengers, the heroes who saved Earth from an alien invasion a year or so ago.  Even in the middle of the Duelist Kingdom tournament, and all that happened then, Yuugi was still aware of the invasion, and it’s a little exciting having a hero like this reach out to him.

“We have the Sennen Ring,” Banner-san tells Yuugi.  

The Ring?  They have the Ring?  But how?  What did whoever stole it, while Yuugi’s bag was unguarded that night, do with it, that it ended up here in America?

“It belongs to you, Yuugi, doesn’t it?” Banner-san says.

 _It belongs to the Pharaoh,_ Yuugi thinks, but he doesn’t say it of course, Yuugi doesn’t talk much about the Spirit who shares his soul.  “The Ring is mine, yes,” he says.  He doesn’t ask how Banner-san got it.  “You have it?” he says instead.  “Thank you very much for calling, Banner-san.  I was worried.”

There’s a pause, then one word, that echoes Yuugi’s.  “Worried…”

The word hangs in the air.  It’s like other things are being said, without words.  Never has Yuugi longed for his Other Self to take over the way he is now.  The Pharaoh has a much easier way with words, he could deal with this so much easier.   Yuugi has to do this on his own though, as his Other Self is closed away in his soul room, still brooding over the events of Doma and he doesn’t dare disturb him.  

Then, “You say you’re worried?”  This is Banner-san, speaking again.  “That’s an interesting word you use.”

“I just meant…”  Yuugi falters.  He meant what he said, didn’t he?  He was _worried_ , because he knows what the Ring can do.  Having it in the wrong hands…  Well, that’s just unthinkable, isn’t it?  “People worry when they lose things, don’t they?”  He gives an awkward laugh.

Professor Hawkins has gone into a different room.  He’s trying to give Yuugi his privacy, but at least he knows something about the Items.  In a situation like this, with the Pharaoh deep inside the Puzzle for who knows how long, his help would have been appreciated, or anyone else’s, for that matter.  Yuugi just isn’t…  He doesn’t feel like he’s very good with words.

“Naturally you’re worried.”  This is Banner-san’s voice again.  “Because the Ring belongs to you, and because…”  There’s another of those pauses, like he’s waiting for Yuugi to say something, like he wants a confession of some kind.

“The Ring is safe in my hands.”  The brief words leave out so much.  Yuugi wonders if Banner-san will accept them.

“Safe?”  The Avenger is just repeating his words again.  Because why, because Yuugi let the Ring go missing?  But what can Banner-san possibly know about its dangerous powers?

“The Sennen Items are very, very powerful.”  Yuugi hears the defensiveness in his own voice, but he can’t make it go away. “I have most of them in my possession, and I am doing my best to keep them safe until they can be dealt with.  I really would like the Ring back, Banner-san.”

“I’ve heard they’re powerful.”  At least the Avenger isn’t just repeating Yuugi’s words anymore.  “I think I’ve seen some things too,” he says, then stops, for another of those long silences.

He’s “seen some things?”  Uneasy ideas crawl through Yuugi’s mind at the thought of what this might mean.   If only the Pharaoh would come out of his soul room, he needs him so much right now.  If only he would take over and resolve this troubling conversation, but he won’t, Yuugi has to take care of this one on his own.  He hopes he can at least talk to his Other Self about it afterward, inside his Soul Room.  

“What...”  Yuugi remembers Ryou-kun’s words:   _His presence is different, the Entity’s presence.  It’s changed, Yuugi-kun._  Is the Dark Bakura here?  Can he possibly be here in America, instead of with his vessel?  The boy swallows.  “What have you seen, Banner-san?”

“The Ring…”  This is the Avenger, again.  “Does it change people, Yuugi?”

“I don’t know.”  Never having known Ryou-kun before he had the Ring, how can Yuugi possibly know if it’s changed him?  But at the same time his stomach starts tying itself into knots.  He _knows_ what Banner-san is talking about.  “You’ve seen something,” he says to the Avenger.  “Please tell me what you’ve seen.”

“Tell me what you know first,” Banner-san counters.  “You wear a similar item.  The gold pendant?  With the Eye carving on the front?  Where do you fit into all this?”

“The Items were made in Ancient Egypt.”  It feels really uncomfortable to talk about this, and Yuugi has to force himself to continue. “They still have power, part of it’s through people like me, who were…”  Hard enough, just talking about this, but to explain it in an unfamiliar language?  “Destined,” he says, “is that how you would say it?”  A noise of assent comes from the Avenger.  “I was destined to wear, to umm… use the Puzzle.  Some people are destined, and some aren’t.”

A sigh comes from the other end of the phone.  “Your talk of destiny doesn’t make much sense to me,” Banner-san says.  “If the Ring is destined to belong to somebody, why does my friend have it now?  Why is it affecting him?”

“Please, Banner-san, please just give me the Ring back,” Yuugi says.  “It is safe with me, I can assure you.”

A mumbled response:  “I think the problem’s going to be getting it away from my friend.”

Yuugi needs to talk to the Pharaoh, he needs to talk to him now, to figure out a way of solving this.  And, even as he’s thinking that, the Avenger continues:

“We’d really appreciate if you came here and picked up the Ring,” Banner-san says.  “Maybe you can help us with what it’s doing to Tony.”

“Tony?”

“Tony Stark.”

Yuugi pictures red-and-gold, a man lying, face-mask off, while a green monster roared into his face.  Mentally, he kicks himself.  He should have known this was who Banner-san was talking about, the fast-talking businessman-turned-hero, Iron Man himself, but there’s been so much happening in his own life, sometimes it’s hard to keep track of the news.  Yuugi swallows. Iron-Man has the Ring. Iron-Man is being affected by the Ring, or so Banner-san says.  He taps the Puzzle dangling from his neck.   _Oh, please, Pharaoh!_  But there’s no answer.  Is the Dark Bakura using Iron-Man, he wonders?  And, is there any question about what he would be using him for?  

“Can you come here, to New York?”  This is Banner-san, speaking again, his voice gentle yet insistent. “We can send a quinjet for you.  Where are you now?”

“I… we’re…”  For a moment, the boy’s mind is blank.  Too much new, disturbing information, in way too little time.  Then the name of the park comes back to him.  “Yosemite,” he says.  “We’re in Yosemite, me and my…”  He thinks about the Pharaoh again, and his voice trails off for a moment, then, “My friends and I are here,” he says.  “We always go everywhere together.”

“You can bring them with you to New York, if it will help make you more comfortable.”  The Avenger’s voice is firm now, not as reassuring as the Pharaoh’s would be, but still very comforting.  “If it’s not very many people.”

Yuugi thinks.  Otogi’s probably going to stay with Professor Hawkins and Rebecca, now that he and the girl are dating.  That leaves Honda, Anzu, Jounouchi…  “Three,” he says.  “Three people, as well as me.”

“We’ll use the locator on your StarkPhone,” Banner-san tells him.  Stay put, we’ll be there soon.”

“I… Banner-san…”  Something else needs to be said, something that Banner-san might not like, but Yuugi has to say it.  “Please keep the Ring away from your friend,” he tells the Avenger.  “At least until I get there.  Can you do that?”

Silence on the other end of the phone.  Then it gives way to ominous words.  “I don’t think you understand the situation,” Banner-san says.  “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

__________________________

The toys are still strewn all over Yuugi’s Soul Room, as before, but the boy feels far from the innocence they used to represent.  The Dark Bakura is here, he’s in America.  He’s taken power, or is taking power right now, over a super-hero, over Iron-Man, whose own power is so vast that it’s practically unbelievable.  And where is the Pharaoh?  He should be here, he should be helping, instead of sulking in his labyrinth.  As soon as the thought comes into his mind, Yuugi pushes it away.  There are reasons why the Pharaoh is in this funk right now.  But it keeps coming back.  His Other Self keeps talking about how he wants to protect the one he calls his “aibou,” so where is he now, when Yuugi needs protection?

Yuugi leaves his own room quickly.  He crosses the hallway that leads to his Other’s room, reaching for the door handle.  Had he noticed before that the Eye on the door is actually really creepy?  And the maze inside, that he’s never associated with anything but love:  It’s pretty disturbing, isn’t it?  Taking a deep breath, the boy turns the handle, pushing the door open.  It’s completely dark inside, for a change.  Is that how the Pharaoh feels, dark, and cold, and empty like this?

“Mou hitori no boku?” His voice echoes in a way it’s never done before.  What’s going on?  What is wrong in here?  “I need to talk to you,” Yuugi says.  “Where are you, mou hitori no boku?”

At first there’s no answer.  Yuugi calls again, “Mou hitori no boku?  Are you in here?”

The soft voice behind him makes him jump, even though the Pharaoh’s come up behind him like this many times before.  “I am right here, aibou.”  His Other’s voice is different too, still determined-sounding, but lacking its usual strength.   Yuugi feels a hand on his shoulder, gentle as always, but a little tentative-feeling.  “What has you so upset?” the Pharaoh asks him.

The Pharaoh should know, he should have been there, with Yuugi, and heard Banner-san’s words for himself.  It’s not fair to think that, but Yuugi does?  Could his Other have chosen a worse time for this crisis, or whatever it is?

As always, his Other seems to intuit at once, what’s bothering him.  “You’re angry with me, aren’t you?” he says.

As always too, hearing the tone of regret that fills the Pharaoh;s words, at once, all of Yuugi’s anger leaves him.  “No, mou hitori no boku.”  He takes his Other’s hand, his cold hand.  Putting his other hand on top of it, Yuugi tries to warm it, a task that feels impossible.  

“Yes you are.”  The Pharaoh’s gentle voice is full of regret.  “And I don’t blame you,” he says.  “I know you’re worried about what’s happened to the Ring, and I’ve been leaving you to deal with it all alone.”

“I understand.”  Yuugi adds the Pharaoh’s other hand to the first.  Now he’s holding both of them in his own two hands, but they still feel as cold as ever.  Cold, and lonely… and dark, like his Other’s Soul Room was dark.  This dark is in his heart too right now, isn’t it?  Shame, because of what happened when they were fighting Doma?

“No you don’t.”  The Pharaoh bends his head, kissing Yuugi’s hand, resting on his own.  “Nor should you, aibou,” he says.  “I’ve been selfish, and immature.  A leader doesn’t run away and hide, just because something went wrong.  I will try to do better, I promise.”  He kisses Yuugi’s hand again, a tender kiss, filled with affection.  Then he leads him back into his own Soul Room, and sits down on the bed with him.  “Now tell me, aibou, what is on your mind?”

Yuugi tells him about the phone call from Banner-san, and about his own worries, that the Dark Bakura may be trying to take control over Iron-Man.

At first the Pharaoh seems nothing but confused.  “Iron- _Man_?  I am not familiar with the term.”

Yuugi explains about the Avengers.  He tells about their heroism, and how they protected the Earth from alien invasion, and he tells how much damage their own powers cause sometimes, that have lead to criticisms that they should be stopped.  “You know what Bakura-kun told us,” he tells the Pharaoh.  “The Spirit of the Ring isn’t with him anymore, he’s somewhere else.  What are we going to do if he is possessing one of the Avengers?  How could anyone stop him if he has super-powers?”

The Avengers sound incomprehensible to the Pharaoh.  Humans, turning into green monsters?  Ordinary men, given medications that make them super-powerful?  And what even is this “Iron-Man?”  An ordinary man, whose skills have allowed him to create a suit that is also a weapon, and can do what?

“I have been too caught up with my own quest, aibou.”  He’s sitting with Yuugi, his hands still entwined with the others, slowly being warmed, as Yuugi keeps gently rubbing and stroking his fingers.  “I have been ignoring what is happening in the world. -- Why didn’t you say something to me, aibou?”

At once, Yuugi’s expression brings him short.  His other’s face, so open, so innocent, and that flash of hurt, deep in his eyes.  “Forgive me, aibou,” the Pharaoh tells him.  “Sometimes I forget I am no longer ruler of all Egypt.”

The two fall silent, both thinking about the problem they face.  The Dark Bakura is not even a “spirit,” he is an entity, a dark, malignant force.  If he takes control over this “Iron-Man’s” powers, what will he be able to do?  How will anyone be able to stop him?

“He wants the Puzzle, I know that.”  This is Yuugi, thinking out loud.  “He’s always wanted it, he wants to finish his fight with you. -- Do you think that’s what this is about?”

“Perhaps…”  Never has the Pharaoh been more frustrated at the lack of his memories.  The Dark Bakura has been trying to destroy him ever since he can remember, but what can he remember?  Just what has happened since Yuugi restored the Puzzle, and a few, pitifully few, traces of what happened in his former life.

“What happens if he defeats you?”  Yuugi’s voice, the voice of the boy he loves, who shares his soul.

Despite his best efforts, the Pharaoh’s frustration comes out sounding like anger.  “I don’t know, how would I know, I have no memories, remember?”

Yuugi, as always, responds only with gentleness.  “Of course not, mou hitori no boku, I understand.”  His hands never stop stroking the other’s, the motion soothing and comforting.  “You’re not alone in fighting Bakura,” he says.  “You have me, and you have my friends, and I think most of the Avengers want to help you too.

“You think?”  Again, it’s too sharp an answer.  The Pharaoh can hear it in his own voice, but he cannot stop it.  

“They don’t understand who they’re dealing with yet,” Yuugi explains.  “I tried to explain…”  The boy falters.  “I’m not good at these things.”

“I should have…”  The Pharaoh stops himself.  This endless guilt serves no purpose.  “We will go together,” he tells Yuugi.  “We will speak to these ‘Avengers’...  I will speak to them.”

“I’m glad.”  Yuugi’s voice is full of relief.  “You’re better at that than I am, mou hitori no boku.”  He stops, but only for a moment, then adds, “That was what else I was going to tell you:  Banner-san said he’s sending to send a quinjet over, to take us to New York.”

A “quinjet?”  New York?  Two terms from this new time, where so much is unfamiliar.  “If you trust this ‘Banner-san’ and his ‘quinjet,’ the Pharaoh tells Yuugi, “then I will do the same.”

Yuugi nods, then a look of fear crosses his face.  “Mou hitori no boku,” he begins.  He stops, swallows, as though afraid to say what is on his mind.

“What will we do if we don’t win?”  Now it is the Pharaoh’s turn to comfort.  His arms go around his small Other’s shoulders, holding him very close.  “We have the Gods on our side, and we have light in our hearts.  Nothing can prevail against us, certainly not the Entity, even with all of this ‘Iron-Man’s’ powers.”

Yuugi leans  into him a little, a gentle smile lighting his face. “I believe you, mou hitori no boku.”  He stops, sits up a little.  “But what about you?”

“Me, aibou?”

You shouldered all the darkness in the world, all that hatred that Dartz-san threw at you,” Yuugi reminds him, his voice very low.  “What if…  What will you do...”

“What if I give in to the Darkness again?”  The Pharaoh’s grip on the other tightens, and his voice chokes with sincerity as he responds, “Never again, aibou.  I have learned my lesson.”

“I believe you.”  Yuugi snuggles close, comforting the Pharaoh with the warmth of his embrace…  With the warmth of his trust.  Does he deserve such trust, the Pharaoh asks himself?  He swallows.  He must deserve it, he will make himself deserve it… for Yuugi’s sake.  “I know you’ll never do that again,” the boy tells him.

“No, aibou.  My destiny is to defeat the Darkness, not become one with it.”  The Pharaoh thinks about the Iron-Man, this Tony Stark, who supposedly is being influenced now, by the Dark Bakura.  What sort of a man is he?  Does he also struggle to uphold a heroic ideal, while fighting the darkness inside himself?

He looks down at Yuugi, nestled close in his arms.  The boy’s bright head, the little wisps of his hair, tickling his own chin.  A surge of protectiveness goes through him.  Does he care what Tony Stark is struggling with?  He will squash him like a bug, if he touches one hair on Yuugi’s head.

His Other breaks the embrace.  “We’d better get ready.  Banner-san said he’d send the quinjet right away.”

“An ‘airplane,’ you said?”  The Pharaoh pushes his dark thoughts away.  He won’t hurt this Iron-Man, just as he did not hurt Pegasus at Duelist Kingdom, as he has been resisting the temptation to harm, or wreak vengeance for so long, saving up all of it instead, for his final battle with the Dark Bakura.  This Iron-Man, this Tony Stark, he is but a vessel, like the weak, pale boy back in Domino, who was Bakura’s vessel before this.  He manages a smile, for Yuugi’s benefit.  “We’ll do this, aibou, we’ll do it together.”

“Yes, together.”  Yuugi’s smile is so warm and sincere.  One almost couldn’t have dark thoughts in the presence of such innocence.  “I’d better tell the others to get ready.”  He grins.  “Jounouchi-kun’s going to flip when he hears where we’re going.”

“Where we’re going?”  The light conversation makes it easy to hold darkness at bay.  If only all of life could be just like this, with him here in this Soul Room, and Yuugi with him, so trusting and warm.  

“I told you, mou hitori no boku.”  Another grin.  “The Avengers are like celebrities.”

“Celebrities?”  An answer without thought, merely a response to show his Other he’s still listening.

“They’re in all the magazines.  You know Jounouchi-kun reads…”  Yuugi breaks off.  “You’re not listening.”

“No,” the Pharaoh admits, “but I am trying.  It is difficult for me to understand all this, aibou.”

Yuugi’s smile reappears, as bright as before.  “Of course it is.  I’m sorry, mou hitori no boku.”

“Go to your friends, aibou.”  The Pharaoh tries to make his own smile as warm as his Other’s.  He watches him leave, watches, for several minutes after Yuugi has gone. This man, this Tony Stark, living somewhere here in America:  He will pay, if anything happens to Yuugi.  No matter that it is Bakura who wills the action.  Stark has made his choice by deciding to serve darkness; he needs to pay as well.


	6. THE SAME DAY

**SCENE:  IN-FLIGHT, SOMEWHERE OVER THE UNITED STATES  
** Everybody’s heard about the Avengers, they’re famous.  SHIELD’s the US Government group they work with, like a team, and they’re practically just as famous.  Any other time, Jounouchi would have been crazy-excited to be where he is right now.  On a SHIELD plane?  Heading to Avengers’ Tower, to meet the Avengers of all people?  What could be more amazing?

Any other time, maybe they wouldn’t be here because somebody had stolen the Sennen Ring, the Egyptian artifact used by Yami no Bakura, the dark spirit who likes nothing better than trying to hurt Yuugi’s friends, as a way of getting at his sworn enemy, the Pharaoh.

Jou tries to act excited, but that’s because he knows Yuugi wants him to be excited.  Yuugi’s a good kid, he only wants them all to have fun, everybody’s doing what they can, just to make him happy.  “Wow, a SHIELD plane!”  The last thing Jou wants to do is go around yelling about everything, but he owes it to his best friend to at least make an effort.  “A SHIELD pilot,” he yells, “oh wow, look, Yuugi, SHIELD staff, in SHIELD uniforms, and we’re going to see the Avengers!  Yuugi, I couldn’t be more excited!!!”

Is his friend even listening?  It’s hard to tell.  Yuugi’s deep inside himself right now, probably talking to the Pharaoh again, like they always do.

Anzu’s sitting next to Yuugi.  “Will you be still, Jounouchi,” she says.  “You’re making us look like little kids.  That’s not what she’s really thinking about, and they both know it.  She’s thinking about Yuugi.  She’s worried about him.  Jou wonders if he ought to argue with her, just to make things look more normal.  Then he decides what would be the point?

“Lay off, Anzu,” he says mildly.  “I just think it’s cool, is all.”

“I guess it is cool.”  The girl’s voice is mild as well.  “But do you really think this is the right time?”

Jou shrugs, grins.  This is all pretend for both of them, but they might as well make it look good.  “Maybe not,” he tells Anzu.  “Who knows if I’ll ever get another chance to ride on a quinjet, though.”

Anzu smiles at him.  “And see New York,” she says.  “Yeah, I understand, I’ve always wanted to see New York.”

“I hear there are a lot of pretty girls there,” Honda chimes in.

Anzu glares at him.  “What would Shizuka-chan think if she heard you talking like that?”

“She’d think I still had eyes.”  Honda grins at her, unrepentant.  “Shizuka-chan knows looking’s not the same as cheating.”

The friends’ pretense isn’t 100% successful.  Yuugi knows his friends aren’t dumb, he knows they understand this isn’t just an ordinary tourist-trip.  He knows they can see he’s worried, but he also knows that they’re right.  Just having them around him, just seeing them smile, and hearing their playful talk is helping him a lot.  He can feel himself relax, listening to them.  Soon they’ll be in New York, and he’ll have to deal with his troubles again, explaining to the Avengers about what the Sennen Ring is, and trying to persuade them to give it back into his protection.  Should he be worrying about that?  Maybe.  But it just feels so good, being able to think about something else for a change.

“If you think about it, it’s really rude of us to sit here talking in Japanese.”  Anzu gestures toward the SHIELD staff, up in the cockpit.  “We can all speak English, wouldn’t that be more polite?”

“Pfft….”  This is Jounuchi.   _Of course_.  “Aren’t they secret agents?  Don’t secret agents literally have to know all the languages?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works...”  Honda.  “But I think Jou’s right, Anzu,” he says.  They told us to make ourselves comfortable when we got on, didn’t they?”

“I don’t know about you two louts...”  Anzu.  “Being polite makes me feel comfortable.”

Letting his friends’ banter wash over him, Yuugi turns inward, seeking the Pharaoh’s presence.  How is his Other feeling right now, he wonders.  He was upset before, is he still?  Won’t they both be happier if they’re together?

When he reaches his Other’s Soul Room, he’s  relieved to find him energized, as he hasn’t been in a long time.  “Mou hitori no boku!”  The smile that comes to his face when he sees him is natural, for a change.  It had felt so lonely, to be distant from the other part of his soul.  Yuugi goes to the Pharaoh, and, impulsively, he puts his arms around him.

“Aibou!”  The other’s voice is warm, tender.  “Are we in ‘New York’ yet, aibou?” he asks Yuugi.

A laugh from the boy.  “Oh no, mou hitori no boku,” he says.  “Even with this quinjet, it’s still a long trip.”

It feels so good for both of them, being close together like this.  Gently the Pharaoh strokes his other self’s hair back from his face.  “I know you’re worried about this, aibou,” he says, “but you don’t have to be.  I am here, I will take care of it.”

Yuugi relaxes into his Other’s strength, enjoying his touch, feeling the comfort of having him there and active, ready to help him deal with the situation.  “I know you will,” he says. “but remember, it will be both of us. -- And my friends too.  You’re not doing this alone, all right?  You don’t have to.”

He feels, rather than sees, the Pharaoh’s nod, his head down, face still buried against his Other’s chest.   “We have faced great trials in the past, aibou.  I’ve had to watch you suffer at the hands of dark entities… -- And your friends too, of course.”  His hand travels across Yuugi’s hair, stroking the golden strands, occasionally touching his face as well, one thumb gently caressing his cheek. “Did you worry then?”

“Some.”  Yuugi’s eyes are closed, his body very relaxed, as he’s being held by his Other.  “Mostly about you, mou hitori no boku.”

“Me?”  The Pharaoh’s laugh is rueful.  “Why would you worry about me, aibou?”

Why?  Yuugi thinks about his Other, about how much he’s had to face, not even knowing the truth about his own past.  He thinks about what will be at-stake if the Pharaoh loses, and how it must feel, always knowing that your lightest decision might bring an end to the world.  But his Other hates talking about these things, doesn’t he?  And really, is there any reason why they have to talk about it right now?

“Nothing,” he says, his voice almost convincing.  “There’s no reason.”

“My generous-hearted love.”  The Pharaoh’s face is pressed into Yuugi’s hair, he can feel it, the warm lips, barely brushing against his head.  “You are so good, always so protective.  “But I will be fine, Yuugi.  This all will be fine, I will defeat the Dark Bakura.”

“You?”  This was what got his Other in trouble the last time, wasn’t it?  This way he has, of taking everything on himself, and never walking away from a fight?  Even now…  Yuugi thinks of how quickly the Pharaoh has broken free from his former despair.  Just the last time Yuugi was here, his Other’s Soul Room was so dark and grim, and now it’s back to the usual Escher-like maze, light shining through barely-seen apertures, here and there.  But for how long, if he keeps trying to fight all by himself?  “We’re all here to help you, mou hitori no boku.”

“I know you are.” His Other kisses Yuugi on the top of his head.  “And I value that, you have been so good for me, aibou.”

The protective part deep in his heart, tells Yuugi that his Other has not changed.  He’s trying to, yes, but you can’t change something like that overnight.  He, Yuugi, will have to watch.  The Pharaoh always thinks he has to protect everyone, but the truth is, he needs protection too.  He needs Yuugi to protect him.

What lies before them might be terrifying, they’ve both known this for a while.  Even before this new news about Iron-Man and the Ring, they knew already they were going to have to face the Dark Bakura, didn’t they? This just moves the timeline forward a little, on a confrontation that was always going to come.

“What does Bakura want with you, mou hitori no boku?”  Yuugi knows he’s not going to get an answer, he knows the Pharaoh can’t answer, not without his memories, but the question just slips out.

“I wish I knew, aibou.”  The shame Yuugi hears in his Other’s voice as he says this, make him feel bad for having even asked the question.  After that, the Pharaoh pulls away from him a little bit.  “You shouldn’t have to face this with me,” he says.  “I should do it alone.”

“You know that’s impossible.”  Yuugi puts his own arms around the Pharaoh, pulling him close again.

He feels his Other’s body relax.  “I know, aibou.”   A soft sound:  The Pharaoh’s sigh.  “Just the thought though…  Just imagining that something might happen to you…  I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”  Yuugi has no idea if this is true or not, but he knows his friend needs the comfort of hearing it.  He adds, making his voice as light as possible, “I have you to protect me, don’t I?  And I have my friends.”  He goes on, making his voice as light as possible, “Just think how useful Jounuchi-kun’s going to be, drooling all over the Avengers, and begging them for autographs and things.”

The Pharaoh laughs gently.  “Is that what he’s doing now, aibou?”

“Pretty much.”  It occurs to the boy suddenly that maybe his friend’s been pretending.  Maybe he’s doing it to cheer Yuugi up.  How strange if everybody’s pretending to cheer up everyone else.  But if it helps them face this new challenge, is that so wrong?  “He wants to have a steak with the Avengers,” Yuugi tells his Other.  “That’s what he told me.”

“A steak, hmm?  Why a steak?”

“Because it’s so American.  There’s a famous restaurant in Texas…”

Yuugi thinks about the picture Jounuchi-kun showed him the one time:  “72 ounces,” he’d said.  “That’s more than two kilograms, Yuugi.”  He wonders how he’s going to explain ounces or kilograms to the Pharaoh, and then he just shrugs.  Why bother?

“Americans like meat,” he says instead.  “And you know Jounuchi-kun, he likes any kind of food.”

“I do indeed.”  The Pharaoh’s laugh is fond.  “Seriously though,” he says, “you need to eat too, aibou, steak, or whatever food the Avengers are offering.  You need your strength.”

:Of course, mou hitori no boku.”  Yuugi tightens his grip around his Other’s waist.  “Just hold me please,” he says.  “Right now, just hold me.”

He feels the Pharaoh’s grip tighten.  “Aibou.”  It’s all he says, and then there’s silence, a warm silence, as they both lose track of time, comforting each other, until the quinjet arrives at its destination.


	7. LATER ON THAT SAME DAY

**SCENE:  TONY STARK’S WORKROOM, AVENGERS TOWER  
** There’s a knock on the door.  It’s Bruce.  He sticks his head in, and he sees Tony holding the Ring, and his face changes.  It would be so much easier if he would just stop doing that.  Bruce keeps acting like the Ring’s some kind of malign influence, like it’s taking over Tony’s mind or something.  Can’t he see that’s just how Tony studies things?  Maybe it looks like obsession to an outsider, maybe it even looks like he’s being “mind-controlled…”  Bruce actually, literally said this.  He out-and-out _said_ , “I think the Ring’s a mind-control device Tony,” and he referenced Loki’s sceptre of all things, like Tony would ever get sucked in by something like that.  

Bruce poked his face in, and he got that expression on his face, that I-hate-the-Ring expression.  Tony was just doing what he’s good at, he was learning about tech.  He’d had the Ring hooked up to JARVIS for three days, and so far, no results.  But there’s something, some little niggling detail, that he can’t put his finger on, that says today’s the day.  “Maybe the Ring’s talking to me?”  He says it as a joke, which is how it comes out sounding ...almost.  Truth to tell, maybe Bruce is right, maybe the Item really is dangerous, but dammit, he can take care of himself, can’t he?  You just don’t walk away from half-finished research.

Tony’s staring at a screen, when Bruce pokes his head in the door.  One word written there:  Four letters, Z-o-r-c.  Tony looks at them.  Zorc?  

“JARVIS,” he says, “what does this reference?”

“Term ‘Zorc’ refers to the Ring, Master Tony.”  JARVIS’ voice is cool and reasonable, as always.  “The text is case-sensitive,  'Zorc,’ with a capital ‘Z.’  No data available as of yet, on how ‘Zorc’ relates to the Sennen Ring.”

“You did a Google-search?  Images, etcetera?”

Already done, sir.”  Now the AI sounds vaguely hurt.  “Search retrieved one image.  Faces in the photo are Moutou Yuugi, last-recorded owner of the Sennen Ring, and Bakura Ryou, a schoolboy from Domino City, Japan.”

“So, a classmate of Yuugi’s, probably,”  Tony muses aloud.

This is when Bruce sticks his head in, by the way.  Tony is talking to himself, and then he thinks he hears Bruce mention the name “Yuugi.”  Did he hear it, or did he just think he did, because he was talking about Yuugi himself?

...At any rate, it doesn’t matter, Tony’s fingers are already tapping keys, starting a search on Bakura Ryou.

Now  JARVIS’ voice really sounds offended.  “Is this what you’re looking for, sir?”

A list of search-hits appears on the screen.  A birth certificate, another, with the name Bakura Amane on it, images from some kind of tabletop roleplaying game.  “Fun.”  Tony’s looking at action figures, some of them pretty well-done.  There’s a helpful Amazon link, in case anyone wants to buy a rule-book for “Monster World.”  If only any of this looked like it would give more information about the Ring.  Tony sees a link to a newspaper article:  Something about a high incidence of mental illness, at Bakura Ryou’s High School?  Could there be a connection with the Ring?  Maybe it is a mind-control device after all?

“An event has been added to your calendar, sir.”  JARVIS’ voice feels like an unwelcome intrusion.

“An event?”  Tony’s opened the article, he’s reading about High School students becoming catatonic, of all things.  Related to the Ring?   _Fascinating_.  Vaguely, he responds to the AI:  “Hit ‘Maybe,’ Pep should know better than to clutter up my calendar without telling me first.  We’ve only had the conversation, like a jillion times.”

He’s back submerged in the article, when JARVIS speaks again.  “The entry was made by someone here at the Tower, sir.  It’s time-sensitive...”

Does his voice trail off, or is it Tony’s attention that’s trailing off, and does it really matter?  If this thing is a mind-control device, think of the practical applications.  The only thing that was wrong with Loki’s sceptre, was the person that was controlling it.  In the right hands, something like that could bring world peace, think of the lives saved, and the wars averted...  

“How long have I been in here?” Tony asks the AI.  

“Today, sir?”  JARVIS pauses for a moment, as if computing.  “Seventeen hours, Master Tony, and 21 minutes, and four seconds.”

“Exactly four seconds too long.”  Tony stands, stretches.  “I’m going upstairs and get some sleep, or maybe I’d better go find out about whatever-the-fuck-it-is, Bruce has added to my calendar.   When did you say that was supposed to be happening, JARVIS?”

“I didn’t, sir,” JARVIS responds.  “But the time for the meeting is ten minutes from…”

(Tony doesn’t hear the rest of what the AI is saying, his attention already focused on the computer screen again, and another article that he’s found, that might be the key to unlocking all the Ring’s mysteries.)

__________________________

 **SCENE:  CONFERENCE ROOM, AVENGERS TOWER  
** The only other Avenger who’s taken Bruce’s worries seriously so far, is Clint.  He’s had experience with mind-control in the past, and he’s never been much of a fan of Tony’s.  “If someone has to hit him on the head to cure him,” he says, “let me be the first to volunteer.”  His expression when he says it is one of those mean, joking/not-joking ones.

Fortunately, it’s about at this point that the Quinjet arrives, carrying Moutou Yuugi and his friends.  Even though he’s seen the pictures, Bruce is still kind of surprised at how short Yuugi is.  And his hair?  Spikes, and a multi-color dye-job...  “Anime hair,” Bruce mutters to himself, then hopes Yuugi didn’t hear him.  

Yuugi’s friends are just normal kids.  They’re here to give the boy moral support, that’s what he told Bruce on the phone.  Because he doesn’t have a guardian with him here in America, probably.  They’re gone right now, Agent Hill is giving them a tour of Avengers’ Tower, while…  

Well, what’s supposed to be happening is that Yuugi should be briefing the Avengers on what he knows about the Ring, but where’s Tony?  Bruce told him as soon as Yuugi arrived, and he told him there was going to be a meeting, and followed up by putting it on his calendar, standard procedure that Tony specifically set, himself, for all the good that does.  Where is he now, though?  He’s hidden away in his workroom, still studying the Ring, as he’s been doing ever since they got the damn thing.

“Let’s go on without him,” Clint says.  “We can’t keep the kid here forever.”  He gestures Yuugi’s way.  “His time is important, isn’t it?”

“I don’t mind,” the boy begins, his voice soft.  “It might be easier if the Other Me…”  He stops, then looks around the table, like he hopes none of them heard what he just said.

“The other _you_?”  Natasha’s the first one besides Bruce to notice.  Just for a moment, her face shows a steely, interrogator’s gaze, but the Black Widow is way too good at her job to remain like that.  When she speaks again, her manner is gentle, motherly almost.  “Thank you for coming to Avengers Tower, Moutou-san.”

“Call me Yuugi, please.”  The boy’s voice is warm, but his smile is just a little bit hesitant, nervous almost.  “I’m very honored to be here, umm…”  He pauses, just for a moment, evidently trying to come up with Natasha’s name.  Then, failing that, “Thank you for your hospitality, Black Widow-san, and thank you to the rest of the Avengers.”

“Please call me Natasha,” the Widow says, her voice still motherly.  “Or Natasha-san, I guess that’s how you would say it?”

A pleased (relieved?) laugh from the boy.  “I am happy to meet you, Natasha-san.”  He goes around the table.  “And Mr. Captain America, and Hawkeye-san, and Bruce-san…”  He stops, as if searching for his super-hero name.

The “ _Other Me_.”  It sounds like the Other Guy, Bruce’s half-fond nickname for the Being who calls himself the Hulk.  But this boy can’t be saying he’s got another person inside him, can he?  Aren’t they just dealing with mind-control devices here?  

“The Hulk,” he says, “My super-hero identity is the Hulk.”  

The light in Yuugi’s eyes looks like recognition.  Are there two people inside his body?  Bruce thinks about Norman Osborn, whose monstrous Other Self is known as the Green Goblin.  He finds himself wondering, what kind of Other Person is inside this innocent boy?

Yuugi bows in his direction.  “I am very happy to meet you, Hulk-san. And my friends were very happy too.”  He grins.  “Especially Jounouchi-kun.”

The blond, who was, Bruce remembers now, the only one of the group who seemed to have any idea who he was.  Hulk’s got fans, weird though that always is to think about, and most of the ones he has are roughneck-boys, about this Jounuchi boy’s age.

“You’re actual super-heroes.” Yuugi’s voice is warm, enthusiastic.  “We’re so honored that you would let us meet you.”  Then, his voice changing,  “I just wish,” he says, “I… I’m sorry…”

“What?”  Natasha really is very good at what she does.  She doesn’t sound like she wants information at all, but just like she’s taking care of Yuugi.   “What is it?” she says.  “You can tell us.”  

“I’m sorry,” the boy says, “but I need my Ring back.”

The Ring:  The mind-control device, that seems to be affecting Tony.   Or is it more than that?  Bruce finds himself wondering how it might be connected, with Yuugi’s talk about “Other Selves.”

“I don’t think,” he begins, speaking to Yuugi, but Natasha interrupts.  

“I understand,” she says.  “The Items are supposed to be together, aren’t they?”

Yuugi’s face relaxes at her words, and he nods.  

“Like your Puzzle?”  Natasha’s looking at the heavy piece of gold jewelry the boy wears, hanging from a heavy chain.  “The Ring and the Puzzle are part of a set, aren’t they?  I think there are seven Items altogether?”  

Tony’s voice does that same capitalization thing, when he talks about the Ring, or the other Items.  Just for a moment, it flashes into Bruce’s head to wonder if these “Items” might be affecting Natasha too, but she seems just the same as always.  She’s been doing research, hasn’t she?  That’s what this is about.

Sure enough, “I did some research,” the Widow continues.  “The Ring was stolen during an attempted robbery, wasn’t it?  The reports I read mentioned some boys, who wanted to take something else...”

“The Cards.”  Yuugi nods.  “Haga-kun and Ryuzaki-kun wanted the Cards.”

“The God Cards,” Natasha says, in her warm, motherly voice.  “Ra, and Osiris...”

“And Obelisk,” the boy finishes in a soft voice.  “Yes, Natasha-san, those are the ones.”

“The Cards only the Pharaoh should command.”  

“It’s more like they were his,” Yuugi says, clarifying.  “Others can command them too.”

A nod from Natasha, and another of those motherly smiles.  “Like Malik, right?  Ra used to be his?”

Yuugi’s eyes widen, until they almost cover half his face.  “You’ve talked to Malik-kun, Natasha-san?”

Natasha’s really skilled at interrogation, isn’t she?  Bruce thinks about the time with Loki, in the helicarrier.  You can know someone’s good at something, but that’s not the same as watching them in action.  Loki got the flattery, the pretense of fear, Bruce remembers.  This boy, so innocent and open, gets a manner that is almost motherly.  “I had to find out more about the Items,” the Widow tells Yuugi.  “You understand, don’t you?”

“Certainly, I guess,” the boy says thoughtfully.  He looks at Natasha.  “How is Malik-kun, Natasha-san?  And how is his family?”

“They were doing well when I talked to them.”  The Widow smiles at the boy.  “Malik is taking college courses, and working with his sister at the Museum.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Yuugi says, with another of his warm smiles.  

“He spoke of you, Yuugi...”  Natasha is getting at something, but what?  Bruce wishes that there’d been time for a briefing-session, before Yuugi arrived.  “Or I think it was you he was talking about,” the Widow continues.  “He mentioned the Pharaoh, and you.  Who is the Pharaoh, Yuugi?”

“The Pharaoh?” A wary expression starts on Yuugi’s face.  “What do you mean, Natasha-san?”

“He’s your dark side isn’t he, Yuugi?”  Natasha’s voice is very gentle.

“I don’t like talking about him.”  The boy’s voice sounds unhappy.  “People don’t understand.”

“He’s not like the others, is he?”  Natasha’s voice.  “The Dark Malik, and the Dark Bakura:  They only cause harm, don’t they?  But the Pharaoh’s destiny is to bring peace.”

“Peace to the tomb-keepers…”  Yuugi’s lips are moving, but his voice is just barely audible.  “And peace for himself….”  He doesn’t seem to be speaking to the Avengers, in fact it’s hard to tell if he even knows he’s speaking aloud.

“The dark sides are real people, aren’t they?” Natasha says.  “Please tell us, Yuugi, please trust us, we’re not going to judge anything you say. Before I left, I talked to Ishizu Ishtar.  She spoke of the Pharaoh as if he was a living, current person.  He is, isn’t he?  For you, anyway, Yuugi?”

A nod, then the boy looks down.  He stares into his lap, his face crimson…  With embarrassment, or with shame?  “I don’t want to sound crazy,” he says very softly.

“You’ve read about the attack on Stuttgart?”  Natasha’s voice is nothing but gentle.  “And the invasion of New York?  What would you call immortal beings, leading aliens to attack a big city?  That sounds crazy too, but it happened.”

“Loki mind-controlled me.”  Clint’s voice, adding support.  “He used a blue gem, set in a scepter.  Sounds pretty crazy too, huh?”

“And there’s the Hulk,” Natasha says.  “You’ve seen the pictures, haven’t you Yuugi?  Even Bruce’s appearance changes.”

“Mine does too.”  Yuugi’s voice is very soft.  “Not as much as with Bruce-san, but still…”

“Can we meet this Pharaoh, Yuugi?”  It’s a rare misstep for the Widow; as soon as she finishes the sentence, Bruce can see Yuugi withdraw, his hands moving to cup the golden Puzzle protectively.

“I can’t,” he says.  “It doesn’t work like that.”  He looks at Natasha.  “You believe in the Pharaoh?  Please, Natasha-san...”  A wider look, covering all the Avengers.  “Please all of you, understand that what’s happening to you is because the Pharaoh doesn’t have the Ring.  It’ll stop if you just give it back.”

Natasha’s gaze doesn’t change.  It’s still warmer than her normal look, still almost motherly.  “I understand,” she says, “and we won’t push you, Yuugi.  But you have to understand, we can’t just give you the Ring back, not right now.”

“Why not?”  Just for a moment, the boy’s face seems to change.  His eyes narrow…  Are they a different color?  They look almost red.  Then he looks like he always does, the same wide-eyed, ingenuous expression.  “The Ring is mine, Natasha-san, it’s both of ours, mine and the Pharaoh’s.  Why  can’t you just give it back?”

“I don’t think we can,” Bruce chimes in.  “I told you on the phone, I think it’s affecting one of us.”

“Iron-Man.”  Natasha nods.  “Bruce has been telling us, he thinks the Ring is affecting Tony.  Is it a mind-control device, Yuugi?  Can it be used that way?”

“It can.”  Yuugi swallows.  “The Dark Bakura,” he says, his voice soft and worried-sounding, “maybe he’s here?”

“The Spirits,” Natasha says.  “Where do they live, Yuugi?  In the Items, or in the people wearing the Items?”

The boy looks more worried than ever.  “I…  I don’t know…”

“We need your help,” the Widow tells Yuugi, “yours, and we need the Pharaoh’s help too.  If something’s mind-controlling Tony, we need to stop it, whether it’s the Ring, or the Spirit of the Ring.”

“I hope…”  Yuugi’s face is worried.  He’s thinking about something, not something good, from the looks of it.  “I will do all I can, Natasha-san.  And I’m sure my Other… the Pharaoh will too.  How can we help?”

“You could let us talk to the Pharaoh…”  Yuugi starts shaking his head before Natasha’s even finished, and his hands go back to the gold Puzzle.  The Widow passes, then, “I guess that’s not how it works?”  

A nod from the boy. “It’s not.  The Pharaoh helps me, but he’s not…  He doesn’t know everything, Natasha-san.”  Yuugi’s silent for a long moment, then he continues “Tony-san, I have to see him…   _We_ have to see what’s going on for ourselves.”

“Because you’re worried that the Dark Bakura might be here?” Natasha asks Yuugi.  “Because you think he’s affecting Tony?”

“I hope not.”  The boy looks very worried.  “That would be…”  He swallows again.  “The Ring has mind-control powers.”  He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, as well as the Avengers.  That’s probably what this is, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Natasha asks.

Yuugi looks down.  “Let me talk to Tony-san, please,” he says.  “The Pharaoh and I, we have to see him.”


End file.
